


old dreams / new memories

by thekingoftrash



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream Smp, Dream is a ghost what will he do, Enemies to Friends, Everybody is fucked up and have issues, Everyones a hybrid bc I said so, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Ghost Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Ghost!Dream, Minecraft but in real life, Past Abuse, Phil is tired, Platonic Relationships, Tags will be added, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), didnt realize that was a tag lol oops.., dream being ominous and foreboding pog, everyone is kinda sorta traumatized lmao oops, ghostbur and ghost dream r besties and you cant convince me otherwise, ghostbur is a treausre, tommy did not sign up for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:41:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 50,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28276257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingoftrash/pseuds/thekingoftrash
Summary: Dream is dead.Dream is dead, and he’s now a ghost.Tommy knows this because, as it currently is, Sam and Ghost Dream are standing in front of him.or: dream dies, and his demise unravels a story nobody could have expected.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Tommyinnit & Tubbo, more later - Relationship
Comments: 135
Kudos: 1445
Collections: Download fics





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> im deep in mcyt hell help me  
> im... maybe gonna continue this??? i dunno, im rly bad at reliably doing stuff but at the same time i have a lot of ideas for this i wanna write, but im scared of disappointing sooo im puttng this as one chapter for now lol. this might become a mini fic series abt ghost dream's adventures w everyone but for now enjoy this kings xoxo

The demise of Dream had, if Tommy thought about it, been a long time coming.

It felt like the beginning of an end, as it were, the second Dream created the smp, the minute he invited people on, the hour he started to turn into the bad guy.

And when the server had collectively decided it would be best to banish Dream into the prison he himself commissioned, that was supposed to be the end of it. The end of tyranny, of manipulation, of friends turning on each other and starting wars and ending lives. Instead, it had just been the climax.

Sam, as the person who built the prison, was decided to be the one in charge of looking after Dream. Well, looking after would be putting it strongly, it just meant that once or twice a week he’d go to check in and make sure he hadn’t escaped or anything. Food was handled by a machine Sam set up, so he wouldn’t starve to death. He had taken multiple precautions to ensure that Dream couldn’t die, as if he did, he could just respawn in the spawn area and wreak havoc once over again.

And so, when everyone got a message from Sam a couple days ago that said “Uh, guys, something’s really wrong with Dream,” it sent everyone into a panic. Did he gain a new power? Did he escape? Was he secretly possessed by an evil demon and the real Dream suddenly came back?

As it turns out, none of that happened.

Dream is dead.

Dream is dead, and he’s now a ghost.

Tommy knows this because, as it currently is, Sam and Ghost Dream are standing in front of him.

“That’s the problem?” Techno suddenly appears behind Tommy, surprise evident in his normally deadpan voice. 

Sam nods, looking like he hasn’t slept properly in a few months, and hell, maybe he hasn’t. Dream but not Dream is hovering behind him, their hands intertwined together, probably to keep Dream from running. 

“How the fuck did this even happen?” Tommy asks, dumbfounded. Sam had messaged Techno the day before to ask if he could come visit their cabin in the arctic, because he wanted to figure out what to do about the problem before letting everyone else know the details, and so here they are. Judging from the sky, it’s barely even sunrise. God, he just wants to go back to bed.

Sam shrugs. “I… don’t really know. not completely, anyways. Can we come in?”

Tommy rolls his eyes dramatically but relents, and Sam and Dream follow them into their living room.

Yes, a living room. Phil and Tubbo moved in with them a little while after Dream’s banishment, and Phil, ever the homebody, and Tubbo, ever the creative builder, took to making their weird multilayered shack into an actual house for people to comfortably live in. Ghostbur technically lived with them, too, but he also took to wandering around a lot, so he was gone a majority of the time.

Tommy sits on one of the arm chairs, while Techno opts to lean against the wall like an edgy anime protagonist. Sam leads Dream to the couch, having to physically move him into a sitting position before joining him.

“So... What the hell happened?” Techno asks, gesturing at Ghost Dream.

Sam sighs. “I honestly don’t know. I went to check in on Dream a couple days ago, figured it would be like normal, right? But I had checked the cams and I didn’t see him in the cell. I freaked out a little and rushed to the cell myself. When I opened the door, I just found… him, standing in the middle of the room, all alone.”

Tommy frowns as he looks over at Dream. Actually looks, this time.

He certainly meets the criteria of “ghost-people”, or at least, he has similar qualities to Ghostbur. His skin is a sickly blue-gray color, though his hands and, for some reason, his neck, are a deep blue. His hair looks… kind of the same, he supposes. His curly locks are suspended in the air as if they’re floating, and instead of being brown like when he was alive, it’s black. His infamous mask is cracked, half of it entirely gone, the other half hanging on. It’s strange, finally seeing Dream’s face after all this time, even if it’s only half, but it’s even more unsettling, because he sees nothing.

Not in the literal sense, but simply looking at Dream makes Tommy feel apathetic. Dream’s eyes may have once been colorful before, but now they’re simply gray, glazed over and completely and utterly  _ lifeless _ . If not for the mask, Tommy honestly would’ve thought this was an entirely different person, because this just---

this isn’t Dream. This isn’t the Dream that talked over everyone, who had an aura of unmistakable confidence and arrogance, the Dream that manipulated everyone like pawns and giggled like a child as he did it.

This is a shell of a person, barely more than a corpse. Even Ghostbur was more alive looking when he was first found.

“Does he talk?” Techno asks, and now that Tommy’s thinking about it, yeah, Dream hasn’t said a word once. Which, again, super weird, for so many reasons.

Sam glances at Ghost Dream…. Ghream? Ew, no, Tommy will just call him Dream--, who’s staring blankly at the ground, before shrugging helplessly.

“I don’t know. He hasn’t actually said anything since I’ve found him. He just sort of clings to me and follows me around. He doesn’t really respond to anything, either.”

“What do you mean by that?” Techno asks, frowning.

“He doesn’t...I don’t know how to describe it, react? The same way he did when he was alive. He doesn’t laugh, doesn’t startle, doesn’t run around. I haven’t seen his expression change at all.”

“That’s really fucking creepy,” Tommy mutters, and nearly shits himself when Dream’s lonesome eye drifts up to meet his.

He definitely, but only psychologically, shits himself when Dream’s eye  _ glows _ .

“WHAT IS THAT?” Someone howls in the background, but Tommy’s only paying attention to the eye in front of him.

The center of Dream’s eye is a dark green, but it seems to literally emit light, casting a small area in front of him a similar shade of green. Dream blinks, once, twice, still staring at Tommy, before his eye shuts off again and returns to the same dead look it always had.

“Tommy! Are you alright?” When Tommy looks up, it’s to see Phil worriedly checking over him, looking like he was in bed just seconds before. Actually, he probably was.

Tommy blinks, a little disoriented. Sam’s got a death grip on Dream’s hand, Techno awkwardly hovering over everyone.

“I’m fine, I think. What the fuck was that, though?” He asks, mostly confused. Phil sighs in relief, shoulders dropping a little.

“T...Tommy..”

Everyone freezes. Tommy’s eyes widen as he stares at where the voice came from-- Dream.

His voice is soft and barely audible, but even so.

“Uh...hi?” Tommy asks, a little awkwardly. Even if Dream’s a ghost, and probably follows Wilbur’s footsteps with not remembering much, Tommy still very much remembers what he did to him.

“You’re…. safe…?” Dream asks in a whisper.

“Safe?” Phil repeats quizzically. 

“Since when has he cared about that?” Techno gruffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Dream?” Sam asks. “Can you elaborate?”

He can see Dream’s hand flex pensively in Sam’s grip. 

“Everyone was in danger… for so long… So… safe now…?”

Suffice to say, Dream’s explanation raises more questions than it does answers, but Tommy figures it’s probably best to humor him.

“I’m safe,” he answers, and he can see the tension he didn’t even know Dream had leave his body.

“Finally,” he whispers, and then he promptly passes out.

“...What the fuck?” Tommy asks. 

Sam grunts as he shifts Dream’s body into a more comfortable position.

“I forgot to mention that he sometimes does that, sorry.”

“What, randomly faint?” Phil asks, brows raised high into his hair. Sam nods.

“Yeah, I don’t know why it happens, just… randomly he’ll sometimes collapse and pass out. It doesn’t usually last long, maybe half an hour at most, but still. I think more importantly is whatever the hell happened with Tommy.”

Techno nods in agreement. “Yeah… The whole safety thing is weird, to say the least. I thought ghosts weren’t supposed to have their memories? But Dream seems to remember.”

“Ghostbur remembers stuff, just not the bad memories,” Phil points out. 

“Yeah, but this implies Dream remembers the negative stuff, too. Stuff that, if I may remind you all,  _ he caused _ .”

Phil groans, rubbing at his temples, now having taken a seat in a free chair. “We only have one ghost to base this all off of. Dream’s memories may function differently. And regardless of his memories, we do have to consider if he needs to pay for his crimes or not…”

Sam frowns. “But Ghostbur never faced any kind of retribution, did he?”

“No,” Techno answers. “But he also didn’t remember anything.”

“Why would that matter? I-- okay, whatever. Let’s go back on topic. Tommy, do you have any idea what Dream was talking about, or why he seems interested in you specifically?” Sam asks, and with that, all the attention is focused on him.

“Not really,” Tommy shrugs, trying to think back to his rather traumatic time with Alive Dream. “He always talked shit about how he was doing everything for my safety and stuff, but I figured that was, you know, the gaslighting and stuff.”

“Maybe this Dream genuinely thinks he was looking out for you?” Phil proposes. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Techno agrees.

“What about his whole… y’know… eye glowing thing?” Tommy asks, since nobody’s mentioned it yet.

Sam grimaces. “I have no fucking clue, honestly. I think we have to wait for Dream to wake up and answer himself, since Wilbur never did any of this.”

Phil sighs. “I can’t say I expected to wake up today to a dead Dream hanging out in my living room and raising so many questions, but I suppose that’s my fault, with all the chaos that’s always accompanied my kids.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!” Tommy shrieks, to which Phil just smiles tiredly, flapping a hand.

“I kid, I kid. I’m gonna go make some tea. Tommy, you should wake up Tubbo. I think he’d like to know what’s going on.”

“Fine,” Tommy groans. 

Techno abruptly gets up from his position by the wall. “I’m going to try and write to Ghostbur. Maybe they can, I dunno, communicate on some ghost level? Whatever it is, it’s worth a shot.” He doesn’t wait for anyone’s reply before he disappears, probably to his study.

With that, it’s just Sam, Tommy, and a passed out Ghost Dream.

“I’m sorry for springing this onto you, Tommy. I had no idea he’d be so… connected, or whatever he is, to you.”

“I don’t think anyone did,” Tommy replies tiredly. Even in sleep, Dream’s got a tight grip on Sam, and looking at him, so many questions run through his mind.

_ How did he die? _

_ Why did he die? _

_ What’s with the eye? _

_ Does he know something nobody else does? _

Tommy sighs as he stands up, heading for Tubbo’s room. He can tell that answering those questions is going to lead to something none of them are prepared for. For now, he just needs to wake up Tubbo. Figuring out the mystery of Dream can wait another day.


	2. a friend in need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo meets Dream, which goes interestingly, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo ive decided to turn this into an actual story lmao. the number of chapters and stuff might change bc ive only loosely plotted out some stuff, but it is what it is lol. im hoping the chapters will become longer as we go on and get more into the lore and stuff, but for now, enjoy some more cryptic and mysterious dream lmaooo  
> also i have no idea how often ill update but hopefully they wont be too spaced out?? rly depends on my motivation haha.. thank you guys for all the kind comments already !! <3

Waking up Tubbo is the easiest part of Tommy’s day so far, which is saying something, considering Tubbo is notorious for sleeping like the dead. The last time Techno tried to forcibly wake the boy up before he wanted to, he literally  _ bit  _ him, so Tommy can’t say he’d been looking forward to being in charge of waking the slumbering beast.

But it turns out, just gently (or possibly forcibly, who knows really) shoving Tubbo off the bed and shouting “DREAM IS DEAD AND IS A MYSTERIOUS GHOST SAYING MYSTERIOUS THINGS” makes him wake up  _ real  _ fast.

“I wanna go see him! Ooh, I have so many questions!” Tubbo bounces excitedly next to him. Tommy just sighs, handing Tubbo his toothbrush. Unlike most sane humans, Tubbo doesn’t seem the least bit perturbed that Dream, the literal fucking  _ owner  _ of this server, is dead and just chilling in the afterlife, but that’s also a very on brand thing for him, so it’s really Tommy’s fault for being surprised. 

“Get ready first, ask questions later,” Tommy reminds him. Tubbo pouts, but dutifully begins his bathroom duties. Tommy patiently waits in the bathroom with him, definitely  _ not  _ because he’s sort of spooked by Dream.

“Is he really dead?” Tubbo asks, having finished brushing his teeth and now moved on to his hair.

“Didn’t I just tell you he was fuckin’ dead?”

“Well, yeah, but I just can’t imagine Dream being… you know.”

“Dead,” Tommy finishes.

“Yeah.”

Tommy sighs. “It is weird,” he agrees. Like Ghostbur, Ghost Dream seems to be a whisper of the original one, but this time with some weird cryptic wording and superpowers.

“Alright, well, I’m ready now. Let’s go see him!” Tubbo beelines for the living room, and Tommy just rolls his eyes at his best friend, following along.

By the time they make it to the living room, Phil’s back from making tea, now setting up a few cups on the coffee table. Dream’s still asleep, now curled into Sam’s side, hair and arms covering his face.

“Good morning, Tubbo,” Phil says pleasantly. “Tea?”

“Sure,” the boy agrees, though his eyes are completely trained on Dream. Sam smiles tiredly.

“A weird sight to see, huh?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah. That’s really him?” Tubbo asks, incredulous. Upon Phi’s gesturing, Tommy sits them both down in a couple of armchairs, and Tommy takes the tea offered gratefully. The caffeine won’t do much to keep him awake, but that’s fine.

“That’s really him,” Tommy confirms. “he looks stranger when you can see his face.”

“You didn’t tell me he was asleep,” Tubbo pouts. “I wanted to ask him so many questions!”

“He probably won’t be asleep for much longer,” Sam offers. “He passes out kind of often. But when he does wake, I wouldn’t bombard him with questions. He doesn’t seem to be much of the talking type anyways.”

“Aw, alright,” Tubbo sighs, taking a sip of his tea. “Where’s Techno?”

“Writing a letter to Ghostbur,” Phil answers. 

“Couldn’t we just contact him with our communicators?” Tubbo asks.

“You know how Ghostbur is,” Phil sighs. “He’s always distracted or wandering off. I think he lost his communicator again.” Which, again, is unsurprising. Ghostbur has the memory of a goldfish on the best of days. Hell, half the time, he forgets he even has a home and just wanders around aimlessly because he got distracted by a cool butterfly or something.

“Hmm,” Tubbo hums, eyeing Dream again. “So what are you guys gonna do with him?”

Sam sighs tiredly. The man looks utterly exhausted, dark circles under his green eyes, hair tousled up. Taking care of Dream alone probably took quite the toll on him. “That’s also why I came here to you guys. I figured you’d have a more objective opinion on how to deal with this, knowing Ghostbur and all.”

“What about Ghostbur?” Techno appears in the doorway, hair and eyelashes covered in a dusting of snow. He shakes his head out as Phil gives him a cup of tea.

“We’re talking about how to break the news to everyone that he’s dead and like this,” Tommy answers.

Techno nods. “I see. I sent Friend out to get Ghostbur, by the way. Shouldn’t be too long.”

Sam frowns. “Isn’t Friend his pet sheep?”

“Yeah, but they have a weird telepathic bond or whatever. And before you ask, no, I don’t know how it works. They’re just connected in some way.”

Sam nods like he understands, though Tommy can see the familiar blankness in his expression. “Alright. So, back on topic. What do you guys think we should do? Keep him a secret?”

Phil rubs his chin. “It’ll be a bit hard keeping something as big as this a secret, no? Plus, you already alerted everyone to knowing that at least  _ something _ is wrong a couple days ago, so they’ll probably be suspicious.”

Sam groans. “True. Honestly, I’m mostly scared of telling people like George and Sapnap. They were really close with Dream, and then they weren’t, and now all this…” He trails off.

“I think we should wait for Ghostbur,” Techno proposes. “And for Dream to wake up again. Whatever’s going on, they probably have the best input.”

“Alright,” Sam agrees. 

“Speak of the devil,” Tommy mutters, pointing to the lump on Sam’s side that’s now moving upwards.

“Good morning, Dream,” Sam greets with a tight smile when Dream fully sits up. He doesn’t yawn or rub his eyes, just blinks slowly, which is, again, pretty unsettling. Sam was right when he said Dream doesn’t really do human things. From his right, he can hear Tubbo gasp.

“Dream… what happened to you?” He murmurs under his breath, shock evident in his tone.

“He got turned into a ghost,” Techno deadpans.

“Very funny,” Phil says in an equally flat voice. 

“Tubbo?” Dream’s quiet, soft voice speaks once again, and like the last time, the room immediately falls silent. Poor Tubbo looks completely out of his element, with everyone staring at either him or Dream. Tommy nudges his shoulder. 

“He did this with me, too.”

“H-hi, Dream!” Tubbo squeaks, raising a hand in a short wave. “Uh, you’re looking especially…. you…? today!” 

“What does that even mean?” He can hear Techno mutter under his breath. Dream frowns, and in his first independent action since Tommy’s seen him, he unlatches himself from Sam’s side, walks over to Tubbo, and then promptly squeezes himself into the same chair that definitely isn’t meant for two people.

“What the fuck,” Tommy says, for probably the tenth time today.

“Oh my god, he’s so cold!” Tubbo yelps as Dream clings to his free hand. Sam, meanwhile, looks absolutely marvelled to have both hands free again. 

“Uh, Dream, mind explaining why you did what you just did?” Phil asks.

“Tubbo,” Dream repeats, like that explains anything.

“I’m here, Dream,” Tubbo says, giving the ghost a wobbly smile. Although he’s trying his best to be chill, Tommy can tell that suddenly having the ghost of a man that manipulated the fuck out of everyone practically fused to his side is putting a strain on him.

“Wait… is he crying?” Techno asks. And, sure enough, he is. Dream’s visible half of his face is half-hidden behind Tubbo’s hair, but tears stream down his face like a waterfall, though his expression is still blank.

“Wh-why is he crying on me? Did I do something wrong?” Tubbo panics. Phil moves to hover over them, though he can’t really do anything. Tommy himself honestly doesn’t know what to do. Ghostbur never cried, since he had blue… Maybe all ghosts need blue or something? 

“‘m sorry,” Dream whispers, and despite the fact that he’s crying a river, his voice stays the same. Tommy shares the same incredulous look with Techno and Sam.

“Sorry for what?” Tubbo asks, awkwardly putting his tea down to pat Dream’s head. 

“Thought I was… keeping you safe. All of you… safe.”

Honestly, Tommy’s a little offended that he decided to go to Tubbo for this kind of apology. Since he, ya know, sort of ripped Tommy’s mental state apart piece by piece when he was in exile. 

“What do you mean by ‘keeping us safe’?” Sam pipes up. 

“Keeping you safe from him,” Dream whispers, and if that isn’t the most ominous thing he’s heard today. 

“Wait, so you mean you failed?” Tommy asks. He has no idea who this mysterious person Dream’s talking about is, but from the way he's wording it, they’re already doomed to whatever the hell this person will do.

“Sorry,” Dream whispers again. “Sorry.” He clings to Tubbo like a lifeline, hiding his face in the boy’s hair, and any further attempts to talk to him or remove him are met with the unstoppable force that is Dream.

“So, how long is Dream gonna cling to me, exactly?” Tubbo asks.

Sam shrugs. “I dunno, but before now, he held onto me the entire time after I found him.” Ah, that explains the exhaustion. Tubbo’s eyes go round.

“What?! I can’t have Dream on me forever!” 

“Hopefully we can figure out a solution to all this once Ghostbur gets here,” Phil placates, though his expression is a bit troubled. 

“Anyone gonna talk about who this dude Dream’s talking about is?” Techno asks, crossing his arms. “First his eye glows when he sees Tommy, then he passes out, and now he’s doing whatever this is. What’s going on?”

“Who could be more powerful than Dream, though?” Sam asks. 

“I don’t know, but I don’t think I want to meet them,” Phil says. 

“Seems like we might anyways, since it sounds like he couldn’t protect us,” Techno points out. 

“My butt’s going numb,” Tubbo complains, and Tommy bursts into laughter because it’s such a Tubbo thing to do in the middle of a serious conversation.

Dream lifts his face suddenly, head turned towards where the front of the house is. 

“Sense something,” he murmurs, and paired with his ominous statement a minute before, everyone’s on edge. 

Or they are on edge, at least, until the front door bursts open, and a few seconds later, a big blue sheep and a gray man holding onto the wool for dear life barrel into the living room, managing to crash into just about everything, including knocking the coffee table and tripping Techno.

The man on the sheep falls off and tumbles to the ground, breathing heavily, before sitting up. The sheep loops around and makes a break for it.

“I came as soon as I heard! Where’s Dream?”

Ghostbur has arrived.


	3. opposites attract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghostbur helps dream open up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and another chapter is written!!! i finished this yesterday technically, but i tried to clean it up and add some more detail a little... still not as long as i'd like, but im hoping ill be able to do more in future chapters, though i wont push myself too far or else ill probably burn myself out.. i can write like one longish fanfic a year i swear LOL any more and my brain dips  
> also its so damn hard writing dialogue when theres more than three characters around gbshiads but i tried my best... why must dream smp have so many characters AHHHH  
> i hope u guys enjoy this chapter!!! im having a lot of fun writing this so far. <3 oh and thank u for all the kudos and comments! you guys r insane and im so grateful for all the support.   
> also unrelated but u guys should follow my twitter, @dreamybeees!! i post a lot of dream smp fanart :D

Phil just sighs tiredly as he goes to pick up the now broken cups, Sam joining along. “He’s right there, with Tubbo.” He gestures a hand in their direction.

Wilbur’s eyes go impossibly wide when he notices the other ghost. Speaking of Dream, this is the most emotive Tommy’s seen him yet, though that’s not saying much. His eyes are narrowed in suspicion, shielding as much of himself as he can behind Tubbo, who smiles and waves.

“Hi, Wilbur!”

“Hi, Tubbo! And Dream!” Wilbur chirps back, standing up with a helping hand from Techno.

“I could do without being tripped next time,” The pig hybrid groans. Ghostbur rolls his eyes, punching his brother in the arm.

“Shush. You wanted me here, yes?”

Techno scowls. “Well, yes, but--”

“Exactly!” Ghostbur crows, slapping a hand over Techno’s mouth, who looks less than impressed. “Anyways, Dream, my dear friend, how are you? Well, I suppose that’s a stupid question since you’re now dead when you were very much alive when I last saw you, but still!”

Dream doesn’t answer, but if looks could kill, Wilbur would be dead again. Tommy’s not sure how that would work, but the point still stands. The gray ghost deflates a little when Dream just stares at him, looking genuinely upset.

Ugh. Tommy forgot that, for some fucking reason, before Dream had been sent to prison, he and Ghostbur were actually  _ friends _ . Like, genuinely. Ghostbur seemed really attached to Dream and Dream never really threatened or hurt him, which by Dream standards, was quite impressive. Ghostbur and never seemed to truly understand why he even got locked up in prison, though he hadn’t argued with them much about it, since he could tell it was a massive weight off of everyone else’s shoulders. It was one of those silent agreements everyone had to look the other way, because hey, he was a ghost, maybe he just really had no idea all the shitty things Dream had done. Ghostbur considered almost everyone a friend, anyways.

For someone he considered to be a dear friend to suddenly seem very wary of him, and being someone with such a fragile mental state, it must hurt a lot.

Apparently it does, because Wilbur blinks again, then looks around confusedly. This is a relatively common sight-- Ghostbur will be reminded of something negative, or feel a negative emotion, and then it’s like his brain resets and he completely forgets where he is or what’s going on.

“Hi, Ghostbur. You’re in our house. Techno sent Friend to go and get you because Dream died and got turned into a ghost, and now he won’t let go of Tubbo, and he also keeps saying weird shit,” Tommy says. Ghostbur blinks again before slowly nodding.

“Oh! I see. Oh, yes, I remember riding Friend here… The rest is blank, I’m afraid. Ah, where is Dream?”

“Right there,” he points, and Ghostbur gasps when he notices them. 

“Oh dear,” Wilbur frowns. “He’s not looking very good, is he?”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Techno snorts. Ghostbur puffs his cheeks in annoyance.

“I mean, he looks _ bad _ . Like, worse than I did when I became a ghost.”

“Wait, ghosts can look different?” Phil asks curiously. Ghostbur shrugs, but then nods.

“Take this all with a grain of salt since I’m the only ghost I know, aside from Dream now, but when I became a ghost, I got the impression that, how do I put this…” He frowns, tapping his arms. “The circumstances of your death and what lead to it determines how you are as a ghost.”

“In what sense?” Techno asks.

“Every sense, I guess? Looking worse, feeling worse, stuff like that. You guys ever notice how my skin’s gained some saturation? That’s because I’m better off than when I had first died,” he explains, gesturing to himself. Wilbur’s skin is still gray, but like he said, it has a lighter tint to it. He continues.

“Judging by his appearance, he had a really bad time before he died, considering how different he looks from the living Dream.”

Tommy chews his cheek, unable to help but feel guilty, despite the fact that locking Dream away was the best possible solution at the time. From the way almost everyone (bar Techno) gazes at the ground or walls, he’s not alone in that. Still, it’s not like they could have expected any of this. 

Wilbur hover-walks (the way Wilbur moves is still a little strange to Tommy, not quite moving like ghosts are portrayed in books, but also not walking like the living) over to where Dream is, who still looks less than thrilled that he’s there, warily eyeing him. He wonders why Dream’s so suspicious of him when they used to be friends. He had memories of him and Tubbo, but not Ghostbur? Strange.

“Hello there, Dream!” Wilbur greets with a smile. “I’m Wilbur, but most people call me Ghostbur because I’m dead! We used to be friends before you died. Do you remember me?”

Dream frowns in contemplation, before slowly shaking his head.

“I see.” Wilbur deflates again, and Tommy’s worried that they’re going to enter some paradox where Wilbur can’t talk to Dream without being sad and getting amnesia, but he continues.

“Well, that’s fine! We can just become friends now! It can be kind of scary being a ghost at first, since it’s so different from being alive, but I’ve been a ghost for a long time now, so I can help out!” Wilbur points a thumb to himself proudly. Tubbo grimaces, but Dream actually looks sort of interested, untangling himself from Tubbo’s side the slightest bit.

“Help?” Dream asks softly.

“Yeah! Help! When I first became a ghost, things seemed really weird to me, with having lost a lot of my memories and the like. I felt like if I were to be alone, I’d just disappear into the air, nothing more than a whisper in the wind, so for the first week or so I latched onto anyone I could find and refused to leave. Is it like that for you, too?”

Tommy honestly can’t tell if Wilbur’s just being his normal self or is intentionally trying to be open and friendly to Dream, but either way, it works. Dream nods again.

“If I let go… It won’t be safe,” Dream mutters. 

“Again with all of these ominous sentences,” Techno groans in the background, before Phil shushes him.

Wilbur tilts his head in question, looking genuinely interested. “What won’t be safe?”

Dream’s frown deepens. “My friends. But it’s…. my fault. I made it dangerous.” Wilbur nods, but Tommy’s just feeling so confused that he can feel a headache coming on. While Alive Dream was a cryptic guy, he also talked so much that you could sort of piece things together yourself if you let him jabber on long enough.

Maybe ghosts are just the opposite of what their alive selves were? It would make some sense-- Ghostbur is soft, naive, and kind, unable to deal with negative emotions. Ghost Dream seems to be quiet, unexpressive, and very suspicious of people, but also very clingy. Dream always kept his distance-- in both the literal and metaphorical sense-- when he was alive.

“How’d you make it dangerous?” Wilbur asks. Everyone holds a baited breath, because this is the most they’ve gotten out of Dream yet. There’s a long pause before he speaks.

“Couldn’t do what he wanted,” Dream whispers. Tommy mentally pats himself on the back for not going apeshit by now and grabbing Dream by the shoulders and making him just tell them what he’s talking about.

Ghostbur hums, inching closer and closer to Dream, who isn’t as tense as when they first met. Oddly, it reminds Tommy of socializing a feral animal. Like when Techno found him in his basement, but with Ghostbur and Dream. If Tommy was a racoon, what would Dream be? A possum, maybe?

“Is that why you became a ghost?” Ghostbur asks. 

This is where Dream starts to get visibly uncomfortable, which is understandable. Tommy’s surprised Wilbur’s asking so directly about this, since he never touches on the circumstances of his death, wounds still too fresh. Dream fidgets uncomfortably.

“Yes,” he speaks, so low it’s nearly impossible to hear. 

Phil exhales, now having mostly put the room back together. “So Dream was killed by this person?” He murmurs. Sam chews on his lip anxiously.

“Can you tell me who this person is?” Wilbur asks. He’s so close to Dream and Tubbo now that their knees are practically touching.

Dream shakes his head.

“That’s alright.” Ghostbur should honestly think about becoming a therapist, because even Tommy’s starting to feel calmed by his steady voice and comforting words. Where was this version of Ghostbur when he was first exiled? It would’ve done wonders for his mental health!

“You can tell us later. Do you mind if I ask you one more personal question for now?” Wilbur asks. 

Dream stares, like he’s looking for something in Ghostbur’s face, and relaxes the slightest after a moment. “...Okay.”

“Are you sad, Dream?” He asks, which isn’t the question Tommy expected. Maybe on some weird ghost level, they can sense each other’s emotions or some shit. He’ll have to ask later. Dream hesitates, fingers digging deeper into Tubbo’s shirt, before he slowly nods. 

Wilbur digs into his pocket, before handing his hand out to Dream. “Would you like some blue?” He asks in a calming tone. “You cry into it and it takes all of your sadness away.”

Dream peers at the blue for a second, actually looking a bit interested, before shaking his head again. “Can’t. Have to… know the truth. The pain.” Which is just… sad, honestly. Ghostbur and Dream really are like inverted versions of each other. Wilbur looks a little sad, but pockets the blue anyways. He rubs a hand over his chin, considering what to do.

“I know!” He claps his hands together excitedly, after a few seconds. “Why don’t we go see Friend?”

“Friend…?” Dream asks. Wilbur nods vehemently. 

“Yeah! Friend’s my blue sheep, you might’ve seen them earlier. Anyways, they’re really good at making people happy!” Dream’s frown tightens, but to Tommy’s surprise, he reluctantly nods.

Ghostbur smiles brightly. “Great! I’ll take you to them, they’re right outside, not far at all.” He holds out a hand, but Dream doesn’t budge.

“C’mon, Dream! It’ll be fine,” Tubbo tries to reassure him, giving him a gentle nudge, but Dream stays rooted in place. 

“Like Tubbo says,” Ghostbur agrees. “It’s safe to let go. I know it’s scary at first, but you won’t disappear and your friends won’t get hurt the second you let go. Do you trust me on this?”

Dream stares. Then, ever so slowly, he lets go of Tubbo, and reaches a shaky hand out towards Wilbur’s.

Part of Tommy is expecting the world to implode or something when they touch, but nothing like that happens. Wilbur grips Dream’s hand tighter, helping to pull him up. Tubbo looks rather relieved to have the body of a man twice his height off of him. 

“Alright!” Ghostbur chirps happily, not hesitating to drag Dream along. “We’re gonna go see Friend now. Bye-bye!” With that, they disappear out of the living room, and Tommy’s sure Dream would’ve tripped over himself if they weren’t ghosts.

“I feel like we should follow them,” Sam comments offhandedly.

Techno sighs. “I’ll make sure they don’t get into trouble. You guys should talk about what you’re gonna do with him.”

“Sure,” Phil agrees, and then Techno disappears out of the house. Sam groans, rubbing his face.

“I can’t believe Dream was killed,” he says. “He’s one of the strongest people on the server. Plus, I never had any notification of someone breaking in or out of the prison. It should be inescapable. I have no idea who could possibly get in and murder him.”

“That is pretty troubling,” Tubbo adds. Speaking of Tubbo, actually...

“How you doin’, Big T?” Tommy asks, leaning back towards Tubbo. “Havin’ Dream up in your business and shit.”

The boy sighs, cuddling further into his jumper for warmth. “I can’t lie, it’s kinda weird. Like, I know Ghost Dream is probably like Ghostbur and can’t really be held accountable for what his living counterpart did, but at the same time, it’s hard to forget all the stuff he did to us, ya know? Also, it’s not as bad, but he’s, like, really cold. He feels like cuddling a freezer.” He shivers at that, rubbing his arms.

Sam tilts his head before giving them a sad smile. “It’s alright to be conflicted on this. Dream was my friend, but even I can’t deny what he did to destroy everything. Even if it seems like he may have some sort of justification for what he did, it doesn’t negate the fact that he traumatized and killed a majority of the server.”

“Exactly,” Phil affirms, fixing a pointed look at Tommy. “I’m still a little sus of this Dream, but that’s alright. It doesn’t mean I’m in the wrong.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “I know you guys are directing this towards me. Look, I admit, being with Dream in exile, like, really fucked up my brain and shit. But my brain’s cool and epic and I’ve bounced back.”  _ Mostly,  _ he doesn’t add. After Dream got locked away, he slowly began to realize just how horrible Dream was to him, but that’s besides the point. “Besides, it seems like Ghost Dream is really fucked up. More fucked up than Ghostbur, which is saying something.”

“Yeah… I wonder what happened to him. It must’ve been pretty bad,” Tubbo hums.

“Hopefully he tells us soon,” Sam sighs. “If there really is someone out there strong enough to somehow sneak into my prison and kill Dream, I’m honestly not sure we could take them on. Not without preparation, at least.”

“True, but Dream was probably at his weakest before he was killed, so it might not be an accurate measure of their strength,” Phil points out.

“If they were able to get into and out of my prison without getting caught, we’re in trouble,” Sam says firmly, with no room for question.

“I can vouch,” Tubbo nods. “Sam’s prison is, like, super duper intricate. It’s genuinely crazy. It’s legit impossible to break in without anybody noticing.”

“Well, someone did,” Tommy grumbles. The idea that someone broke into a place that by all means should be inescapable and killed Dream isn’t all that reassuring.

“Hopefully he’ll tell Ghostbur,” Tubbo says, worried. “I really don’t want us all to be murdered by a mysterious and evil god-like person.”

“If he doesn’t, we’ll have to find some way to make him.” The look on Phil’s face says that he means that completely seriously, which is a little worrying. What could Phil even do? Torture him? Not like ghosts can die a second time.

“How do you plan on that? If we scare him off, he’s just gonna clamp down more,” Sam argues. “Either he tells Ghostbur, or… well… I honestly don’t know.”

“Ooh, I know!” Tubbo pipes up, climbing out of his chair to sit on the arm rest, right next to Tommy.

“Why don’t we take him to see his old friends? Like George and Sapnap!”

Sam runs a hand through his unruly green hair, sucking a breath through his teeth. “Maybe that’d work? I’m just scared that either he or they will react really badly when seeing each other, though. That’s why I came to you guys first. They haven’t spoken very kindly about Dream ever since he got imprisoned, you know. He completely broke their trust.”

“If he won’t talk to Ghostbur, that’s our best bet. We have to know if we’re in any actual danger or not,” Phil says. Sam sighs, but relents.

“Alright, fine. We’ll bring Dream to his friends and see if he’ll tell them the whole story if he won’t tell Ghostbur.”

“Yay! We finally have a plan!” Tubbo cheers, pumping a fist up. Then, he says, “hey Tommy, watch this!” Even though Tommy isn’t facing him, he can feel the devious smirk growing on the other boy’s face.

“Wha-- OHMYGODHOLYSHITHTAT’SSOCOLDWHATTHEFUCK!!” Tommy shrieks, nearly jumping out of his skin. Tubbo had placed his hands on his neck, and by the gods, they’re  _ freezing. _

“Told you!” Tubbo says cheerfully. “Ghost Dream is super duper cold!”

“I never even said I doubted you!” Tommy yells back. He swats at Tubbo, but that just encourages him, looping his arms further around Tommy in a roundabout hug. Maybe it’d be cute if, like Tubbo mentioned, he wasn’t colder than the literal _ arctic  _ they lived in.

“Warm,” his best friend purrs. Tommy sighs, finally relenting. What few people know is that Tubbo is one of the most stubborn bastards on the planet, rivaling even his own bullheadedness. When he wants something, he damn well gets it. 

“Aw, so cute,” Phil coos with a mocking exaggeration, tilting his head and holding his cheeks. “My two baby boys. So precious.”

“Disgusting,” Tommy spits. Sam barks out a startled laugh, while Tubbo just sticks his tongue out. “Yeah, only I’m the cute one here!”

“Cuteinnit and Cutebo,” Sam guffaws, laughing even harder when Tommy screams in outrage. 

“I AM NOT CUTEINNIT!” He howls. “ I’m so manly and big and cool!” 

“I like the sound of Cuteinnit,” Tubbo comments, because of course he’d love to fan the flames. Tommy swats at him again. 

“Like hell you do!” His friend giggles.

“Whatever you say, Cuteinnit.” With that, Tubbo finally relents, arms loosening as he plops back into his seat. Tommy breathes, rubbing at his neck, trying to get some warmth back into his body. 

“You’re all the worst,” he declares, feeling particularly betrayed by Sam, who’s still laughing, though he at least has the decency to cover his mouth.

“You love us anyways,” Phil grins. He opens his mouth to refute, but closes it again, because he’s right, as annoying as that is. Before all this he would’ve happily been able to say that they’re all dead to him, but after their final confrontation with the living Dream and all that followed, he came to realize just how much he gave a damn about everyone. Emotions are ugly and he hates him, but his heart still stubbornly carves out a place to put everyone with tender care. 

Ugh. He’s not going to go on a sappy internal monologue about how he loves everyone on this stupi server, nope, definitely not. That’s something only disgustingly wholesome people like Tubbo and Bad do. 

“Do you think we should go get them?” Sam asks. “I’ll be honest, I’m not sure if Ghostbur and Techno would be the most reliable babysitters.”

Phil hums. “Techno’s more observant than he seems. Ghostbur too, actually. Did you guys see how he was with Dream? I had no idea he could do that!” Tubbo nods.

“Me neither! Like… he just knew the exact right things to say to make Dream trust him! Maybe it’s because they’re ghosts, so they understand stuff we can’t.”

“That’s a definite possibility.”

“So do we just have to wait for them or some shit?” Tommy asks, kicking his feet. He’s never been one for waiting around. Phil, knowing this, smiles.

“I don’t see the harm in checking in on them.”

“Yay!” Tubbo cheers into the air as he and Tommy scramble out of their seats, heading out the front door.

“Don’t forget your hats, it’s cold out!” Phil calls behind them, grabbing his coat. Tommy groans dramatically, but grabs his and Tubbo’s hats, since he knows the other boy will forget. Tubbo wrenches the front door open and Tommy scowls when he’s hit with a blast of freezing cold air. Ah, the arctic life. 

“I see them! Hi, Dream! And Ghostbur! And Techno!” Tubbo grabs Tommy’s hand once they’re out the door, waving enthusiastically a little in the distance, as though they hadn’t seen Dream five minutes beforehand. Ghostbur pops his head up from behind Friend, waving back. Tubbo barrels on ahead, Tommy in tow, while Sam and Phil lag behind like boring adults always do.

“Hi, guys!” Wilbur greets them once they’re within talking distance. He’s sitting on the ground, Friend splayed over his lap, as Dream sits on his legs, face buried in their soft wool. Techno, meanwhile, is standing with his arms crossed a little bit away from them, like he’s afraid to be associated with them. That sounds like a rather Techno thing to do, so it’s not impossible.

“Is Dream okay? He didn’t die or some shit, right?” Tommy asks, raising a brow, pointing a hand at the slumped body.

“He’s already dead,” Ghostbur points out. “But no, he’s fine. I think he likes Friend!”

“I like Friend, too!” Tubbo grins, plopping down next to Dream to pet them. “They’re so soft…” He sighs happily, pure bliss on his face.

Phil pops up behind them, wordlessly taking the hats from Tommy’s hands, putting one over his head, and then moves over to Tubbo to do the same.

“I don’t get how you guys can enjoy living in the freezing cold all year,” Sam gruffs with a shiver. He’s wearing a heavy coat with a scarf, but even so, they  _ do  _ live in the arctic. No matter how many layers he wears, Tommy doesn’t really ever truly feel warm here. It kind of sucks, but that’s what they get for living in such an inhospitable place. He can understand Sam’s struggles.

“Well, I think it’s easier if you don’t have Dream attached to you,” Tubbo muses. “That guy is  _ cold. _ ”

“Right? I forgot what it was like to have feeling in my hands,” Sam laughs, shaking his hands out for extra effect. 

“So you guys haven’t been up to any shenanigans, right?” Phil asks with a pointed look, settled in next to Techno, who is so obviously the favorite son that nobody even cares anymore.

Ghostbur gives a rather cheeky grin, but shakes his head. “Nope! Isn’t that right, Dream?” He asks, poking him. Dream moves slowly, raising his head, blinking sluggishly at everyone. With his hair mussed up and eyes so blank, Tommy thinks he might’ve actually fallen asleep or something, but he’s never seen Ghostbur sleep. Do ghosts even need that?

“No… It’s…. quiet here. Friend is warm.” He pauses, like it physically hurts him to speak, which Tommy sincerely hopes isn’t true. “Feels safer. But not… totally safe.”

“How could we be totally safe?” Sam asks. Dream frowns, considering this.

“Haven’t seen…. everybody… could be in danger,” he mumbles, twisting his fingers in Friend’s coat. 

“Wait… you remember everyone?” Tommy asks. Ghostbur definitely didn’t. Dream nods.

“Think so…. ones that…” His face screws up in what could be considered a look of shame or sadness on anyone else, but is kind of blank on him. “...that I hurt. Or… hurt me.”

Ah. How fun. Every time Dream talks, his backstory just gets more and more depressing.

“Wait, so, Dream, do you.... Only remember bad things?” Tubbo asks next to him, frowning sadly. Dream nods again. 

“Wow. So Dream and Ghostbur are practically parallels of each other,” Phil sighs. “That’s unfortunate. No wonder he seems so sad.”

“If you want to keep everyone safe, why did you hurt them?” Tommy asks. Tubbo shoots him a  _ ‘that was fucking stupid’ _ look, but he doesn’t care. He crosses his arms, feeling a little defensive, as he stares at Dream. But he feels like he deserves to know. He does, doesn’t he? Dream always seemed to personally hate Tommy the most. He ruined his psyche, and that time in exile was genuinely the first time he ever felt depressed and suicidal, all thanks to the man in front of him. 

“Because he wants to… hurt you. But if I hurt you,” he pauses again for a moment, “he stays away.” Tommy blinks, scowling.

“What the fuck? Who the hell are you talking about, and why is he such a dick?”

Dream frowns again, staring intently at Friend’s dark blue wool. Ghostbur takes one of his hands in his, smoothing out the fingers as a gesture of comfort.

“Don’t want to keep secrets anymore,” Dream whispers miserably, looking so genuinely torn up that for a moment, Tommy completely regrets ever hating him. Despite the fact that he must be freezing, Tubbo, on Dream’s other side, leans into him.

“Then don’t,” Techno says.

“If...If I know…. everyone is… safe, I’ll… explain it… But,” he pauses, “it might-- might put…. you all in more danger… if you know…” He trails off, clinging to Ghostbur like a lifeline, as if he tries hard enough he can hide away forever.

“I don’t think we have much of a choice. Dream, will this person come after us, even if we don’t know the full story?” Sam asks. The ghost digs his face into Ghostbur’s shoulder, but answers.

“...Yes,” he says. Sam bites his lip, but nods like he expected the reply. 

“Alright, then I guess by making sure everyone is safe, you mean we’ll have to go visit everyone on the server?” Dream pauses for a moment, then nods again.

“We could call everyone to meet in L’manburg or something,” Tubbo muses, but Sam shakes his head.

“No, I think that’d be too overwhelming for everyone involved. I think we should first meet in small groups. Maybe we should start with his old friends.” At that, Dream’s head shoots up from where he was just hiding. Sam smiles softly at Dream, who stares back with wide eyes.

“Dream, how about we go visit George, Sapnap, and Bad?”


	4. i feel alive?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group sets off on their journey to reach some old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM ALIVE!!! ok so funny story, this chapter and the next one were supposed to be a single one, but i realized it'd be really fuckin long so i decided to split them up. it also works, since i haven't finished writing that part of the chapter yet. that said.. im sorry for the wait, guys! i promise im still working on this story!! i just work slowly so i dont burn myself out. even if my updates take a while, i am working on the story!  
> i had a lot of fun writing this. i feel kinda bad bc this means yet another chapter to wait before other characters r introduced, but i hope u guys enjoy all the interactions between our current cast haha. also some spicy lore, humor, and a hint of angst. pogchamp  
> thank u guys so much for 600+ kudos already, youre insane!! enjoy <3
> 
> title is from i feel alive? by COIN

It only takes about half a second for Dream to respond with a vehement nod, the most animation Tommy’s seen him have yet.

“Guess that’s settled, then,” Phil says. “Let’s see… those guys still live in the Dream SMP, right? I’ve never been there, so I won’t be of much help with navigation or anything.”

Techno turns to Sam. “How long will it take to get there?” He asks.

“To Dream SMP?” Sam considers this. “A few days, probably. But we only have to travel a day, since they’re actually in Eret’s castle now.”

“Really?” Phil exclaims. “When did that happen?”

“Uhh, a couple weeks ago I think? I don’t live there, but Eret was getting lonely, so a few people moved in. Last I checked, they were expanding the castle as well.”

“But Eret’s castle is already ginormous!” Tubbo exclaims, splaying his arms out for dramatics. “How big will it be when we get there?!”   
  


“Guess we’ll have to see,” Ghostbur grins. 

“Are we all going, then?” Phil asks. “Do we have enough horses for that? Sam, how did you get here?”

“I brought a horse, don’t worry,” Sam waves a hand flippantly. 

“Then we should have enough.” Techno frowns in thought. “We only have three horses, though. So someone would get left out.”

“No worries, I can ride Friend!” Ghostbur pats Friend’s back lovingly. “They’re only big enough for one person to ride them, though.”

“That works out fine. Alright, who’s riding with who?” Techno pauses, glaring in Tommy’s direction. “Tommy, you can’t ride with me.”

“WHAT?! You’re such a bitch, I didn’t even wanna ride with you anyways!” Tommy retorts, sticking his tongue out. Techno, ever the mature adult, does the exact same. Phil sighs, rubbing his forehead. 

“I can sit with Techno. Dream, who do you want to sit with?” Dream’s been silent throughout the entire conversation, but he perks up at the question. Tommy barely gives it a second thought. He’ll probably sit with Sam.

“Tommy.”

…

_ What. _

“What?!” Tommy shrieks. “Why me?!” Dream has not shown an  _ ounce _ of interest in Tommy this entire time, but now that they’re gonna be stuck on horses together, he chooses _ then _ to be all buddy-buddy with him?! He has no interest in turning into a living popsicle, thank you very much!

Tubbo laughs unabashedly at him. “It’s only fair! Everyone has to have their turn of Dream clinginess, Tommy.”

“You should be on my side, you bitch!”

“Language,” Phil chides.

“Oh what, so you’re BadBoyHalo now?” Tommy scoffs, crossing his arms defensively.

“God no, but you swear too much.”

“See if I care,” Tommy huffs. Phil sighs tiredly, turning to Techno.

“Techno, go get the horses ready. Tommy, if Dream wants to sit with you, he’s sitting with you.” He says it with an air of finality, and although Tommy wants to protest, his word is as good as law, so he bites his tongue, glaring daggers at his back. Techno mock salutes him before turning around, heading towards the stables. 

“That means we’re together, Sam!” Tubbo jumps excitedly, looping an arm with Sam’s. 

“Hell yeah, brother!” Sam grins back, swinging their arms together. The two of them, in a strange way, remind Tommy of how he and Wilbur used to be when they were little. He thinks maybe he should be jealous that Tubbo’s basically unofficially found a new brother, but it just fills his chest with warmth. Everyone’s been through so much, they deserve all the happiness they can get. 

Besides, it’d be a bit hypocritical, wouldn’t it? Neither Techno nor Tubbo were biologically a part of the family, but that didn’t change the fact they were damn well part of it. Hell, back when he had first joined the server,  _ everyone  _ acted like family, including Dream himself.

He doesn’t dwell on those memories for long, nostalgia fading to melancholy when he blinks back into reality.

Phil points back towards the house. “Everyone else, come help me get some supplies. We’ll probably have to camp somewhere for the night, so we’ll need some tents. And food, obviously.”

“Alright,” Tommy agrees, everyone else murmuring their own agreement. They head back to the house, Dream hovering alongside Ghostbur. Not in the literal sense, although Ghostbur is, since snow will kill him or some shit. He normally just walks like the living, but he can hover when he wants to. Really, they should’ve picked a better place to live since the environment could disintegrate him, but Ghostbur’s never complained about it, at the very least. 

Tommy himself wouldn’t mind living in L’manburg again, but he knows Tubbo has some bad memories associated with it, which is why he chose to go live with them in the first place. Plus, after Dream got locked away, the nations and what they stood for started to crumble. Not in a negative way, but in more of a way that people realized they no longer had to be at each other’s throats, so they started to rekindle friendships and live peaceful lives. For the most part, at least.

That’s probably why the people they’re about to visit went to go live with Eret, despite all the drama that’s happened in the past.

By the time Tommy snaps out of his brooding, he’s back in the house. 

“Tommy, go get us the tents from the attic, will you? Tubbo, you should go too. Sam, mind helping me with packing the food and potions?” Phil asks.

“Sure thing,” Sam nods.

“What about us?” Ghostbur asks, doing a flip mid-air. Tommy acts like he isn’t jealous of the ability. _ ‘Us’, _ of course, meaning him and Ghost Dream, who’s awkwardly hiding behind Ghostbur, but it’s kind of useless since he’s in the air.

“Just… stay there and don’t break anything, alright?” Ghostbur pouts. 

“What? I know you’re just trying to keep me from being involved,” he huffs, crossing his arms. “I’m responsible!”

“You literally set the kitchen on fire the last time you tried to cook,” Phil deadpans.

“Once!”

“You got into a fight with Tommy in the middle of the nether and nearly shoved him into lava!”

“Again, only once!”

“How about the time you fell asleep outside in the middle of a snowstorm and I found you half fucking melted into the ground?”

Ghostbur sighs. “Fine, fine. I get your point. I’ll stay here with Dream.” Despite his words, he juts his lower lip out like if he acts pathetic enough, Phil will cave in, but that’s a foolish notion. Phil is a kind father, yes, but the boundaries he sets are impossible to get through no matter how hard you try. He rules with a loving but incredibly firm hand.

“Good,” is all Phil says, with absolutely no sympathy in his voice, before turning tail and heading towards the kitchen. “Get moving, we want to be out as soon as possible!” Sam follows behind him, while Tommy and Tubbo head for the attic. 

“So Dream, wanna go wander around?” Tommy can hear Ghostbur say cheerfully, since he’s never actually learned how to whisper. He pauses on the stairway, sharing a look with Tubbo. They really can’t be left alone for more than a few seconds, huh?

“...He said not to,” Dream’s soft reply comes, though it takes some straining to hear it.

“Aw, Dream, you’re no fun!”

“Sorry.” If they say more after that, he’s unable to hear it, as the two of them round the stairs up to the attic. At the very least, if Dream is there, they probably won’t get up to any shenanigans, so it should be safe to leave them for a minute. Tubbo jumps to grab the cable, but is unable to reach it, hands grasping nothing but air.

“Damn it,” Tubbo growls, when his second jump also fails to deliver. Tommy grins wickedly.

“Haha, short bitch,” he cackles gleefully, never missing an opportunity to bully someone.

The boy puffs his cheeks out in annoyance. “Rude!”

“Allow me, a tall person, to show you what you’re missing out on,” he says smugly, not bothering to hide it. Tubbo kicks him in the leg in frustration, but moves out of the way to let Tommy grab the cable and pull it down, revealing the ladder that heads up to the attic.

“I wonder how we’ll get the tents down from here,” Tubbo muses. Tommy shrugs, but considers the point, because that is gonna be a problem.

“I dunno, one of us stands at the bottom and the other at the top, and we just toss the tents down or something?”

“I guess,” Tubbo agrees. He kicks Tommy’s leg again, to which Tommy kicks back. “Now hurry up!”

“So impatient, geez.” But be obliges, scaling the ladder up, Tubbo closely behind.

The attic is dark and dusty from disuse, filled to the brim with random items nobody needed. The tents were left in here since they haven’t had a reason to go traveling far enough to require them as of late. Tubbo sneezes behind him when he steps into a pile of dust.

“We really need to clean this place out,” he comments, voice nasally. 

“Later. Where’s the light switch, again?” Tommy squints into the darkness, but isn’t able to discern where anything is. The attic isn’t large by any means, and he can spot the other side of the wall, but it’s packed with stuff.

“Uh, here, I think?” Tubbo replies, voice lilting, and a second later, the room is bathed in the yellow glow of a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. 

“Found em,” Tubbo says uselessly behind him, because with the light on, it’s pretty obvious to see that the tents are all tucked away in the corner. Tommy groans, muscles aching just from looking at them.

“Ugh, this is gonna be  _ such  _ a bitch to move.”

“Less bitching and more moving, as Phil would always say!” Tubbo lightly shoves him forward. Tommy has half the mind to spin around and drop kick him down the ladder, but even  _ he  _ isn’t that mean. Usually.

Tommy does as Tubbo says, but he does a double take when he notices something on a random side table that was tossed in the attic at some point. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen it before, so he goes to investigate. When he picks it up, he realizes that it’s a photo, a little worn around the edges and a big crease down the middle.

“Why’d you stop?” Tubbo asks from behind him, going on his tippy toes to look over his shoulder. “Ooh, is that a picture?”

“Yeah. I think it’s….holy shit, Tubbo, I think that’s Dream!” It took him a second to figure out who was in the picture, since it faded out a little, but he’s pretty certain that this picture is of Dream and… Techno?

“What the--? When did Techno know Dream? I never knew they were friends!” Tubbo exclaims, voicing Tommy’s thoughts out loud. 

In the picture, Dream’s mask is nowhere to be found, but neither is Techno’s cape or crown. They both look fairly young in this-- maybe ten at most? They’ve got their arms thrown over each other’s shoulders. He only recognizes Dream from the hair, dirty blond curls flowing, freckles splattered across his face. He’s grinning widely, green and brown eyes on Techno, though he’s gesturing towards something out of frame. Techno, meanwhile, looks as impassive as ever, but even in the photo, he can tell that his gaze is softer. His hair is short and choppy, clothes not nearly as regal as the outfits he always wears now, instead donning a short sleeved shirt and baggy pants, bandages rolled all along his arms. They’re out in a field, or at least somewhere in the open, where the sun is shining brightly and the grass is green. The photo is slightly tilted and blurry, as if whoever took it couldn’t stay still.

They look--

they look  _ happy.  _ This is the most relaxed he’s seen Techno since he could remember.

They look happy, but this doesn’t make any sense, because there’s no way Techno knew Dream from that long ago, because that’d mean the rest of them did, too. And he’s quite certain he never knew Dream until he joined the server. Right? How could he forget something like that?

Tommy doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Tubbo places a hand over his, looking up at him with concern. “You alright, Tommy?”

Tommy licks his lips, mouth suddenly devoid of moisture. “I… Yeah, yeah. I just didn’t expect this, was all. When the fuck… when did this happen?” His voice is more shrill than it usually is, cracking.

“I dunno,” Tubbo frowns, looking down at the photo again. “We can ask Phil about it later. He’s gotta know, right?” Right, Phil, their father. He had found Techno and taken him under his wing before Tommy was even born, so he has to be aware of this, right?

“Right. Okay.” He doesn’t protest when Tubbo gently tugs the photo out of his grasp, tucking it into Tommy’s pocket. 

“Let’s get what we’re here for.” Tubbo gives him an easy smile, maneuvering them both towards the tents, and Tommy snaps out of whatever stupor that photo gave him by the time he’s carrying one down.

\-- 

“You sure you won’t drop this?” Tommy asks again.

“Oh my god, just hurry up and give it to me!” Tubbo replies with a huff. They’ve finally gotten all the tents but the one he’s currently holding out of the attic, but this tent is a little older than the rest, and thus, heavier. While the other tents they got were designed for travel and made relatively light, this wasn’t, and he knows that even though he’s not saying anything, Tubbo’s starting to grow tired. Tommy is too, actually, but he at least won’t be the one crushed if it drops.

They’ve probably only taken ten minutes tops to do all of this, but the way Tommy’s arms shake as he starts to lower the tent, he might as well have been on his feet for the past few days doing nothing but hard labor.

“You boys almost done? We’re just waiting on you,” Phil calls from downstairs.

“Last one!” Tommy shouts back. He hands down the tent, to which Tubbo grabs, and Tommy has a mini heart attack when he tilts over, though he manages to drop the tent without dying. Phil appears at the top of the stairs, smiling tiredly at them.

“Thank you both. Sam, Techno, and I will load up the horses. You guys, just...make sure Ghostbur and Dream don’t do anything stupid in the meantime, alright?”

“On it!” Tubbo salutes next to him. Tommy groans. Babysitting duty, huh? But he follows Tubbo as he moves. They pass Sam by on the stairs, who looks a little less than thrilled to have to do heavy lifting, but hey, it’s their problem now. Bitch.

They make it to the front door just as Techno opens it. He blinks slowly at them.

“Oh. Hullo,” he greets, in the weird lilt his voice always does. “Are you ready yet?” His long, shell-pink hair has been put up into a messy bun, the bun part resting on the inside of his crown. Tommy’s not sure how that crown’s stayed on for as long as it has, with how much Techno moves, but he thinks it’s just another mystical thing that he shouldn’t think too hard about.

“Yep! Phil and Sam are just bringing the tents down now,” Tubbo beams. 

“Alright, guess I should go help with that. Ghostbur and Dream are hanging out with Friend again.” With that, he steps past them, calling out to Phil. Tommy pulls his hat on tighter as they step outside, the frigid wind doing little to lift his mood.

True to his word, the horses are all tethered just outside the porch. Carl is easily recognizable, not because of his coat, but rather, the luxurious diamond armor draped across his body, almost blindingly bright in the morning sun. Munching next to him is Phil’s horse, Frost, named adequately so because of her white coat. The one next to her must be Sam’s, since he doesn’t recognize it, and then at the end of it all, there’s Friend, with Ghostbur happily sitting on top of them while animatedly talking to Dream, who looks like he isn’t really listening, sitting in the snow. He abruptly moves his head up, locking eyes with Tommy and Tubbo. 

Sheesh. He’s not sure why Dream has a sixth sense for knowing when others are around, but it’s kind of creepy, if he’s being honest. Ghostbur perks up when he notices, following Dream’s gaze before grinning at them.

“Hi, guys! Are we ready to go yet? Dream doesn’t wanna do anything,” Ghostbur drawls, dramatically splaying himself on Friend. “It’s so boring!” If Dream’s insulted by this, he doesn’t show it, continuing to mindlessly drag his fingers through the snow.

“Just about,” Tommy replies, strolling up. “You really wanna sit with me, Dream?” He knows it’s probably mean to ask, but he might as well shoot his shot. He doesn’t wanna have to spend a day with a man colder than the arctic clinging to him, can you blame him? He’s built for the heat. Well, maybe not  _ heat  _ heat, but more warm and temperate climates. To his disappointment, Dream nods. 

“Surely it won’t be  _ that _ bad,” Tubbo, ever the optimist, quips from beside him. “Sam had to ride all the way here with Dream holding onto him too, ya know.”

Tommy doesn’t bother to mention that while that’s true, Sam is also a creeper hybrid, and thus naturally runs warmer than mere puny humans like themselves. 

When he glances up at the sky, he notices that, far off in the distance, it looks like a storm’s brewing. Rain, much less storms, are a rare commodity here in this world, so he just hopes they’re not going in the direction of it. He doesn’t give it much of a thought, as that’s when the others come out, arms full.

It only takes a couple of minutes for the supplies to be safely strapped to the horses. Tommy groans as he stretches his legs, since they probably won’t be taking many breaks. 

“You sure you don’t need a saddle?” Techno asks, peering at Friend. “Your ass is going to get real sore.” Ghostbur smiles brightly, shaking his head.

“Nope! Friend is super soft, my ass will never be sore!” He chirps cheerfully, eliciting a snicker from Sam.

“Right then, we ready to get moving?” Phil asks, squinting up at the sun. “It’s already late morning.”

“I think so,” Sam agrees, and when nobody protests, he claps his hands together. “Alright! C’mon Tubbo, we get to be saddle buddies!”

“Saddle buddies!” Tubbo cheers, beelining for Sam’s horse. Sam untethers his horse, then helps lift Tubbo up to reach the saddle, before swinging on himself. Techno follows suit with Carl, settling in before giving Phil a helping hand. Ghostbur, of course, is already on Friend, which just leaves Tommy and Dream.

“Alright, Dream, you know how to ride a horse, right?” He must at least know how to not fall off, since he rode in with Sam, right?

“Oh, Tommy, I should mention,” Sam muses as he leads his horse a little ways away. “When we came here, I had Dream sit in front of me, even though I was controlling the horse.”

“There’s no way I’m doing that,” he deadpans, crossing his arms. Tommy, admittedly, isn’t as comfortable with riding horses as, say, Techno, and there’s no way he could handle keeping Frost in check while also having Dream in front. “Dream, you’ll have to sit behind me. Just, like, keep your arms wrapped tight enough that you don’t fall off, though.”

Dream frowns in confusion but nods, following when Tommy beckons him towards the horse. He swings his legs into the stirrups and over the saddle, only feeling marginally bad when Dream struggles to hop onto the horse, but doesn’t offer a helping hand.

“You’re being a very bad host, Tommy,” Techno says. Tommy sticks his tongue out at him, before yelping in surprise.

Dream’s managed to settle in behind him on his own, but also took Tommy’s advice of holding on, and holy fuck, it’s  _ so fucking cold _ .

Sure, Tubbo and Sam had warned him about the cold, and he even got some residual feeling from the former, but actually being _ touched _ by Dream is another matter entirely. 

This is colder than he’s ever felt before. Even that time he wandered in the snow alone, looking for Techno’s house, nearly dying of frostbite in the freezing winter air, comes nothing close to this.

The chill he gets from Dream is different from simple snow. This type of ice-- it goes through the bones. Every muscle in his body tenses and aches from nerves being lit alight, and he has to blink away stars that appear in his vision. When he breathes, it takes him a moment to realize that he’s even doing so, entire body somehow so, so numb, but also so, _so_ _painful._

It burns. It freezes. It’s everything and nothing all at once, stifling but too empty. 

“...Tommy, mate, you alright?” Phil asks with concern lacing his voice. Tommy breathes in and out again, suddenly aware of where he is and what’s happening right now. He can feel Dream shift behind him. 

“I…” Tommy breathes again, trembling hands tightening on Frost’s reins. She snorts and paces a little, but otherwise doesn’t move. “I- I’m okay. I think. I just… Fuck, it’s so cold.”

“It shouldn’t be  _ that _ cold,” Sam frowns. “Like, Dream’s freezing, but he’s not so cold that you should be in serious pain or anything. Do we need to switch you out?”

Tommy considers this, before sighing. He’s a big man. He can take this, surely. He also may or may not feel kind of bad for always being such a dick to Ghost Dream, who just seems to want to bond with everybody. “No, I’m fine. Just took a minute to adjust.”

Sam considers him for a moment, but relents. “Alright. Who’s leading the way?” 

“Me,” Techno declares immediately. “I’m a human GPS, and my instincts say we go that way.” He kicks Carl into gear, leading the pack. Sam shrugs and follows along, Tommy following suit, and somehow Ghostbur and Friend are able to keep up the pace easily. There’s something really weird about that sheep, he’ll be honest, but it makes Ghostbur happy, so whatever.

“Wouldn’t you be a pig GPS?” Tubbo asks in a teasing tone.

“Har har, very funny,” Techno drawls. “I’m only part pig, idiot.” From the distance, he’s a little harder to hear, but Dream makes for a quiet companion, and aside from nearly giving Tommy a straight up heart attack from his body temperature, he’s not that bad of a travelling companion. Of course, that could always change later, since they’ve only been on the road for, like, a minute.

“Still counts as a pig!” Tubbo retorts.

“I still don’t know how a human and refrigerator make a part pig,” Sam admits.

“I was adopted,” Techno replies. “One of my parents was human, the other was a piglin.”

“I see. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to them? I’ve never heard anything about them.”

“Orphans killed them,” Techno says, deadly serious. Tommy bites his lip to keep from giggling. It’s not a fun story at all-- deeply traumatic, actually, but when Techno had first opened up about his past, Tommy had burst into laughter because it just seemed so _ insane. _ A kid that vowed to kill orphans because they orphaned him. To be fair, he was also about nine at the time, so he didn’t really understand the severity of the situation.

“Oh, my condolences-- wait, did you say orphans murdered your parents?” Sam’s voice raises a pitch.

“Why do you think he’s an orphan killer?” Tommy smirks. From the angle he’s at, he can tell that Sam’s face is red, but whether that’s from the cold or embarrassment, he doesn’t know.

“But wouldn’t that make him-- you know what, I won’t ask anymore questions. Sorry for bringing it up.”

“It’s fine. It happened when I was so young that I barely even remember them anyways,” Techno drones. “Besides, I think this family is better than whatever they could’ve given me.”

“Oh my god, Techno, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about us,” Phil croons, sounding like he might legitimately start sobbing. Techno grunts.

“Don’t make me regret it, old man.”

“I take it back, you’re the worst,” Phil laughs. 

“I was adopted, too!” Tubbo chimes in. Tommy stays silent, which is a rare commodity for him, but it doesn’t seem like this is his thing to speak about. He and Wilbur were born and raised in their loving household, unlike Techno, or even Tubbo, though the latter had been found so young that he might as well have been.

“Oh yeah, didn’t you say you were found in a box or something?” Sam asks.

“Yup,” Phil answers. “I went out for a walk when I found a mysterious cardboard box on the side of the road. I peeked my head in and what do you know, I found none other than Tubbo! He was quite young then, maybe a year old at most. He had a little note with him, though all it said was that his name was Tubbo, and to please take care of him. Even back then, he was the happiest and most chill toddler you could ask for. Especially compared to Tommy.”

“Oh, god, remember when you arrived home with him?” Ghostbur adds with a laugh.

“Yes!” Phil wheezes. “Tommy was so mad! He hated Tubbo so much at the beginning, thinking he was gonna steal all my attention or some shit.”

“What the fuck, I have no memory of that!” Tommy protests. 

“Of course you wouldn’t, you were also a toddler, idiot,” Techno retorts. 

“What do you mean? He’s still just as mean as when we were kids,” Tubbo adds, making Tommy really wish that it was socially acceptable to strangle someone. Instead, he just imagines pushing him off his horse and letting him freeze in the snow for a little while.

Phil laughs. “Alright, alright, maybe we should hop off the bullying Tommy train for now.”

“Thank you! See, Phil gets it. I did nothing to deserve this. I think we should bully Tubbo instead.” He huffs.

“You know, you’re kind of just proving their point,” Phil points out.

“If you fuckers speak again I’m gonna start stabbing shit,” he threatens, and everyone dutifully does just that.

\---

It’s a merciful hour of blissful silence before someone dares to speak again. Usually, Tommy would fill any form of silence with mindless talking, but he doesn’t mind the time to think with all that’s been dumped on him within the past day. It’s hard to forget with Dream plastered to his back, floating hair tickling the back of his neck.

He still has no idea how he feels about him. Phil and Sam said that it was okay to be conflicted, or to hate him, and Tommy damn well  _ does _ hate him. But that was the alive version of him. Every time he looks at this Dream, he’s just filled with sadness and pity, but he’s  _ just  _ similar enough that it rouses his memory of pain and hurt.

He hates him, he doesn’t hate him. He doesn’t fucking know. Emotions are confusing and weird. He knows he should probably ask someone about it, but the thing is, nobody else quite has the relationship with Dream that he has.

Everyone was hurt by him in some way, yes, but Tommy and Dream’s dynamic ran deeper than words could describe, something that could only truly be understood by each other.

And now that Dream’s dead, in a strange sense, he’s all alone. The thought leaves him feeling empty.

As if he has a sixth sense for anything negative, Ghostbur falls back from where he ran up to now walk side-by-side with Tommy, flashing the two of them a grin.

“Hi, Ghostbur.” Tommy says, when he doesn’t say anything.   
  


“Hi!” He chirps back. From the front, Techno groans.

“Oh, c’mon, we had such a good streak of silence!” Tubbo and Phil laugh at that.

“It was bound to end someday,” the latter comments. The pig hybrid grunts, but doesn’t say anything.

“Hey Dream, did you know I fucked a salmon?” Ghostbur asks cheerfully. If Dream could trip over himself, Tommy’s sure he would, but as it is, he momentarily loses his grip on Tommy before remembering that if he lets go, he’ll fall off and be left in the dust. 

“...What?” He asks. And it-- it’s not the way Dream would say what when he was alive, back before the wars, when somebody would say something so  _ stupid _ that was all he could reply with before he crumpled to the ground in a wheezing laugh, but it’s similar enough that Tommy’s emotions go haywire.

Until now, Ghost Dream has been so completely and utterly different from his former self that Tommy sort of forgot they were the same, but that…

_ ‘Dream, are you in there?’  _ He thinks to himself, frowning.  _ ‘Somewhere really, really deep down, maybe?’ _

He’s not thinking of the Dream that--

_ “Put your stuff in the hole, Tommy.” Dream’s mask makes it impossible to tell how he’s feeling, but his voice is firm and unyielding. Tommy wants to object, wants to fight him tooth and claw, draw blood out of him and crack his mask in half and watch him suffer the same way he has, but-- well. He’s already tried that, and how has that turned out? So Tommy sighs, tossing everything he worked so hard to get down the pit, never to be seen again, and it feels like a part of his soul falls down with it. _

_ \-- _

_ “I’m still your friend, Tommy,” Dream whispers, a firm hand grasping his shoulder. The evening has long since dwindled into pale moonlight, the tide of the ocean waves anything but calming. Dream was right-- nobody cares about Tommy anymore. Nobody but him, anyways. The umbrellas carefully dug into the sand, shielding towels underneath, lay untouched. The cake he spent all day baking has gone cold, picked at by some wild seagulls. The ocean before him is large and consuming, so dark it nearly looks like the void, and for a split second, he wishes he could fall right in and never look back.  _

_ “Yeah,” Tommy replies, voice tight. “I know.” _

_ \-- _

_ “Rebuild everything from scratch,” Dream demands, voice laced with an underlying fury he’s never heard the other man have before. His entire body goes rigid with fear, mind telling him to turn and run as far as he can, but he’s frozen in place. Ice trickles in his chest and he thinks he might be dying. “And never, ever lie to me again, or you’ll regret it. Do you understand, Tommy?” _

_ Tommy just sinks into the rubble of all that he’s lost and cries. _

\-- that hurt him, no. He’s thinking of the Dream beforehand. The one he joked around with, the one that worked on crazy new inventions with Sam and Tubbo, the one that laughed good naturedly and worked hard to keep peace between everyone. It’s hard to believe a version of him like that ever existed, but with Ghost Dream’s appearance, he's starting to wonder which version of himself was the fake.

“Don’t tell him that!” Phil chides, slapping the back of Ghostbur’s head lightly. Ghostbur pouts.

“I have a point! Anyways, I fucked a salmon, and I gave birth. Well, no,  _ she  _ gave birth. It would have been rather uncomfortable that I did. And then she had a kid. My son, Fundy. Do you remember him?”

“Fox… ex fiance…?” Dream asks, sounding unsure.

“Yes, yes! I, ah, forgot you probably had negative memories associated with him,” Ghostbur laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. To be honest, Tommy had kind of forgotten about the whole Fundy and Dream being engaged thing. To be fair to Fundy, they first got engaged back when Dream was a relatively sane person, and it had been a friendship thing as opposed to actual romance. The engagement had been broken off during the final confrontation, though Fundy started hating Dream long beforehand.

Still, though, the whole thing is a bit weird when you start to think about it. Like Romeo and Juliet, except neither of them seemed to really love each other and one of them was bloodthirsty and insane.

“I hope I can see him again soon,” Ghostbur muses. “I miss him.”

“I’m sure we will,” Sam placates. Nobody mentions how Fundy probably doesn’t have the same regard. The tale of Fundy is tragic, when he thinks about it. Broken up from his now dead fiance, the child of an admittedly neglectful father, then there was the whole thing where he created an army or some shit and went after Techno, causing Phil, his own grandfather, to disown him.

Whether or not those bridges can be repaired, he doesn’t know, but that’s their problem. 

“How much longer ‘till we get there?” Ghostbur complains, never one to stay on a topic for long.

“We’ve barely been gone, Ghostbur,” Techno responds without batting an eye. “It’s gonna be a real long time, but you wanted to come, so buckle up.” The ghost sqwacks his indignance, ranting about how mean and stupid he is that rivals even Tommy’s own speeches. 

\--

The rest of their journey is, as far as they go, relatively uneventful. This includes, of course, Ghostbur racing Sam to a river which ends in the former nearly somehow drowning, being veered off-course when the horses get spooked by a blade of particularly tall grass, and then Tommy, Tubbo, and Ghostbur all sing shitty songs off-key until Phil nearly stabs them. 

“Alright gang, I think we should stop here for the night,” Techno says eventually, pulling Carl to a stop. Tommy could nearly cry from relief. They’ve been on the road since early morning, and now the sun is starting to set. They probably still have an hour or so of light, but the sunset blends into indigo hues and milky oranges over the horizon, a blindingly stunning kaleidoscope of colors to witness when he’s been so used to the monochrome palette of the arctic.

They’ve been out of the snowy region for a little while now, which he’s thankful for. Icy tundras have gradually turned into rolling hills of lush grass and flowers, trees canopying the sky. Right now, they’re in a plains biome, just bordering a hilly region they had to traverse. In the distance, oak trees stand strong and proud.

“Looks like as good a place as any,” Phil agrees. “Let’s bring the horses to that tree over there.” He points towards a lone tree, impossibly tall. They lead the horses over there, and once they come to a stop, Tubbo and Phil are the first ones off the horses. 

“Sweet, sweet freedom!” Tubbo cries, falling into the dirt. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, legs!”

“We’re not done yet, mate,” Phil replies, not unkindly, as he tethers Carl. “Gotta set up a campfire and tents.”

“Imagine needing food and sleep,” Ghostbur sniffs with an air of superiority. Techno lightly slaps the back of his head as he passes by him. 

“You can get off now, Dream,” Tommy says, when everybody except them has dismounted, already starting to set things up. He can feel Dream shift behind him, fingers digging into the front of his coat.

“Seriously, man, you can leave.” Tommy’s lost any feeling he had in his body a while back, which surely can’t be good for him. If Dream gave his entire middle section frostbite, he’s gonna start rioting.

“Won’t leave?” He murmurs behind him, breath cold on his neck. 

Holy shit, you’ve got to be kidding. This guy thinks that if he hops off the horse, everyone will fuck off and disappear? Ghost Dream has more abandonment issues than him and Fundy combined, which is saying something.

“Nobody’s leaving, Dream. Now please just get off so we can set up camp.” Dream finally,  _ finally  _ relents, detaching himself from Tommy’s back, and slides off the horse. He stumbles when he lands, but just blinks slowly, before backing up a little and staring up at him with wide and expectant eyes.

Tommy’s excited to get off the horse and stretch his legs, too, until, well--

\--until he realizes he can’t actually move. He frowns, attempting to throw his leg over the side, but he’s met with absolutely no response.

Holy shit, did Dream actually turn him into a living popsicle?

“Tommy, hurry up and get to helping us, you slacker!” Techno calls out. When Tommy looks over, everybody else is working on either setting up the tents or a fire pit. He tries to move but is, like the previous attempts, unable to actually do anything. Goddammit.

“Uh, about that,” Tommy comments. Techno frowns, walking over to them. 

“What?”

“I… may or may not be unable to move right now.”

“...What.” Tommy gestures uselessly to himself. His arms work, but everything below the torso feels like it’s frozen in place, body cut off from the brain. 

“I can’t move. My body won’t let me, or some shit.” The hybrid frowns deeply, squinting at Dream in suspicion.

“You didn’t do anything to him, did you? I’m not afraid of stabbing you, ya know.” Dream takes a few steps backwards, shoulders hunched in towards himself like he’s afraid Techno might actually do that, and something about the sight just feels _ wrong. _

Maybe it’s because when he was alive, Dream was  _ never _ afraid. He’d take one daring step forward, he’d parry with the most unlikely of opponents, he’d tease and throw the last punch. He never,  _ ever  _ backed away from a fight. Maybe it’s because the interaction has Tommy wondering what the hell happened to the versions of themselves that were in that photo he found, any semblance of two happy friends long gone.

“He didn’t do anything, I don’t think. Now will you help me down or not?” Tommy asks in an annoyed tone. He’d rather avoid Techno beating up a ghost. To his surprise, he relents, grabbing Tommy by the back of his coat and hauling him off his horse in one fell swoop. When he sets him on the ground and lets go, Tommy’s legs give out instantly, falling to a ground in a heap.

“Ouch. Bitch,” he complains, though it’s mind bogglingly relieving to have his legs in a different position for the first time in half a day.

“Are you able to get up?” Techno asks, frowning down at him. “You sure that green bastard didn’t do anything to you?” Any other time, Tommy would’ve relentlessly made fun of Techno showing any kind of emotion that indicates that he does indeed care about them, but honestly, he’s more concerned about being able to move.

“I already told you, no! The fuck you think he could do anyways? You’ve seen him, he’s just sad and scared all the time,” he replies, rolling his eyes. As if to prove his point, Dream backs away farther, timidly playing with the sleeves of his shirt. Techno squints suspiciously at him before sighing.

“Okay, fine, I see your point. Seriously, though, why can’t you move, then?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s from the cold?” Tommy frowns. He nearly screeches when Techno crouches, placing a hand on his stomach.

  
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He shouts, incredulous. Techno gives him a half-lidded stare, expression flat, yet dead inside. 

“I’m seeing if you’re cold, idiot. And you are.” He scowls, brows furrowed. “We shouldn’t have let Dream sit with you for so long. I forgot Sam wouldn’t be as affected by the cold as you would.”

“How kind of you to say,” Tommy replies. 

“Do you ever shut up? Anyways, you’re most likely frozen stiff right now. Let’s move you to the fire and hopefully you’ll thaw out.” He loops an arm under Tommy’s shoulders, pulling him upright. 

“Pogchamp,” Tommy says in a voice as seriously as he can. The sheer look of utter disgust that passes over his brother’s face makes it well worth it when he nearly drops him. 

“I should let you try and walk there yourself,” Techno sniffs, though the threat is all bark and no bite. The two of them start walking to where the group is. Or rather, Techno’s walking, while Tommy tries to not trip over himself when he can’t feel his feet, so he’s mostly being hauled around as he clings uselessly to his brother’s cape.

“C’mon, Dream,” Techno calls over his shoulder. Dream timidly trails after them, obviously a little suspicious of the hybrid. He doubts Dream has a very high opinion of him after being threatened, but then again, literally everyone has been threatened by Techno at some point, so maybe it’s just a rite of passage or some shit.

It only takes a few seconds of them hobbling over like the world’s worst potato sack race for Phil, the one closest to them, to notice them. His head pops up from the tent he’s splaying out.

“There you guys are! What took so long?” And, upon noticing Tommy slumped into Techno, he panics. “Is Tommy okay? Did he get hurt?” Techno raises a placating hand before Phil can get up.

“Calm down. He’s fine, he just got turned into a living popsicle. With some warmth, he’ll get back to normal.”

“Popsicle? Wait, because of Dream? Shit. Well, I think Sam’s nearly done setting up the fire, so he can go sit down.” Phil still gives him a once-over, ever the doting father, but nods to himself and motions them onwards.

“But don’t think I’m letting you off easy, Techno!” He calls out from behind them.

“How shocking,” he deadpans in reply. They head over to where Sam’s setting up the fire, a safe distance from anything that could set the nearby forests on fire. A little off in the distance, he can spot Tubbo attempting (and failing) to pitch a tent while Ghostbur laughs at his peril. Sam looks up when he notices the shadows, blinking in surprise before smiling.

“Oh! Hi guys. Uh, is Tommy alright?” He asks, expression faltering when he notices him.

“Yeah, yeah, he just needs to warm up a bit. His body went numb from Dream’s coldness,” Techno explains, and the creeper hybrid’s eyes light up with recognition.

“Oh shit! I never thought that you might be affected more than I would. Sorry, Tommy. My bad,” he apologises, guilt written all over his face. Tommy waves a hand.

“It’s whatever, dude. Got the fire going yet?”

“Yep, just sit and watch,” Sam boasts proudly. He kneels in front of the pit, holding his ungloved hand out, and Tommy watches in awe as sparks fly out of his fingertips, eventually lighting the kindle aflame. 

He’s seen Sam do stuff like this before, of course, but it never ceases to amaze. Maybe it’s because he’s just a human, but the idea of hybrids has always been really fucking cool to him. Like how Ranboo’s part enderman, or Fundy’s part fox, and so on and so forth. They have so many intricate details about them that set them apart from humans, and if he dares say so, it’s spectacular. He thinks if he could pick any hybrid to be, it’d probably be creeper, actually. Or maybe wither skeletons, those bastards are stupidly strong, though he’s never met one before.

He’s brought out of his internal fanboying when Techno unceremoniously dumps him onto the nearby log. Pain shoots up his back as he tries to steady himself, glaring at Techno.

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

“Yep,” Techno replies, completely unbothered. “Now just sit here and don’t do anything stupid.” He turns around, heading off to help Phil. With Techno gone, Dream risks getting closer to them, where he had previously kept a fair distance.

“Hi, Dream,” Tommy says. Dream awkwardly holds up a hand, waving to him, shifting on his feet.

“What do I…?” He trails off, looking around nervously. It’s strange to see him so out of his element.

“Dream, you can just sit with Tommy, if you’d like,” Sam says. “We’re just going to be setting up the tents and then cook dinner. Unless you know how to handle tents?” When Dream shakes his head, he gets up, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him to the log Tommy’s sitting on, though he seats him as far away as possible.

“Right then, just stay here. It shouldn’t take us too long.” Sam grins, waving as he moves to Tubbo’s direction.

Tommy groans as he sits back. Techno was right about warming up. He’s barely been here for a minute, but even so, he’s starting to have feeling return to his lower half again. Dream sits hunched into himself, wide eyes staring into the fire.

“Ever seen fire before, big D?” Tommy asks, mostly as a joke. 

“No,” Dream whispers, making his eyebrows shoot up.

“Wait, really? No way.” Why wouldn’t he remember fire, of all things? Dream loved blowing things up… But maybe that’s why.

“I… remember it, a little,” Dream whispers, holding a hand out towards it. “But I’ve never felt… drawn to it… like this.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re freezing fucking cold,” he scoffs, kicking his legs. A weird look passes over the other’s face as his fist clenches.

“Yeah. Maybe,” he agrees.

\--

A little while later, everything’s been set up, and mercifully, Tommy’s body feels mostly normal again. Everyone’s moved back to the fire, night time now settling in. Tubbo’s sitting next to him, along with Sam who’s next to Dream, and on the other side of the fire, there’s Ghostbur, Techno, and Phil.

“Everyone fine with pork chops?” Phil asks, placing a pile of them over the fire.

“Cannibalism, hell yeah,” Techno responds. The worst part is that he isn’t even being sarcastic-- Techno often eats pork, claiming he likes the taste. Yet another reason he’s a terrifying person.

Tubbo leans in towards Tommy, cheek resting on his shoulder. “‘M hungry. And tired.”

“I know, Tubs. We all are,” Phil smiles tiredly. “But we gotta eat first so that we don’t starve to death, then we can sleep.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Who’d you’d reckon would look worst bald?” Tommy muses, tapping his chin. “My bet’s on Techno.”

“ _ What?  _ What on earth are you talking about?” Phil barks out a laugh in surprise.

“He’s on a wavelength only god can understand,” Techno replies.

“I think Wilbur would look pretty bad bald,” Sam interjects.

“WHAT? I’d be beautiful, dick!” The ghost protests angrily.

“Tubbo.” It takes Tommy a moment to realize that the person who says that is Dream, since he’s been silent for a majority of the day, and didn’t even talk much when he was sitting with Tommy.

“What?” The person mentioned asks. Dream pauses, licking his lips.

“I think… Tubbo would look worse… bald.” He considers this. He didn’t realize Dream was even paying attention, to be honest. 

He imagines Tubbo with his big, round eyes, fluffy hair gone and replaced with a shining smoothness, and the image in his mind is so cursed that he has to physically shake his head to remove it.

“Yeah, okay, you’re right, you win,” he agrees.

“What? Why me?” Tubbo asks with a frown, lifting his head up to glare at them. “Surely I can’t be the worst!”

“Tubbo, imagine yourself bald,” he deadpans in return. The boy pauses for a moment, but he can tell the exact moment when he realizes what he’s conjured in his mind, face dawning with realization.

“Oh my god!” He shouts.

“He’d look like an egg!” Phil wheezes, slapping his knees.

“Eggbo,” Sam grins. 

“Nooo! Shut up!” The boy slaps his hands over his ears. “I can’t hear you! I’m not an egg!”

“Phil,” Dream murmurs. “I think… the food’s burning.”

“Oh, shit!”

\--

They managed to save a few of the pieces, which was luckily enough for everyone, minus the ghosts, to eat. It’s a good thing ghosts don’t need food to survive like the rest of them do. 

With his stomach full with warm, if slightly crispy, food, his best friend next to him, and a beautiful night sky filled to the brim with stars, he thinks this is the happiest he’s been in a while. Even with Dream, if anything, it makes him feel a little more calm than before. Even when he was in prison, the paranoia still lingered, what-ifs always in the back of Tommy’s mind. Now that they have him with them, though, he doesn’t have to needlessly worry over what he’s doing. 

He’s brought out of his thoughts by Ghostbur digging something out of his bag.

“How about some tunes?” He asks cheerfully. 

“Did you seriously bring your guitar?” Phil asks, incredulous. Techno snorts.

“When does he not?”

“Fair enough,” Phil laughs. “Oh, right. Dream, you’ve never listened to him play, have you?” Dream shakes his head. Ghostbur settles the guitar on his lap, positioning his hands.

“Then prepare to be amazed.” He winks coyishly at Dream, strumming a few loose tunes. Tubbo leans over.

“I think they’re flirting,” he whispers. Tommy scrunches his face dramatically.

“Dude, gross, shut up!” He’d rather not think about his dead brother and also dead abuser-slash-friend getting together, thank you very much! Also, that’d make things  _ really _ weird, with Fundy being Wilbur’s son and all. Wait, but if Dream and Techno were friends as kids…

He wisely chooses to stop thinking about that can of worms, tuning into what the others are talking about.

“Any requests?” Ghostbur asks the group, lazily picking at his guitar. “I’m done warming up.”

“You should pick, since it’s your guitar,” Sam says, moving so that he’s resting with his back against the log. Tubbo shifts so that he’s able to start braiding Sam’s hair, though it isn’t really long enough for anything substantial.

“Hmm. Alright, then!” He starts a soft tune, lyrics starting as a whisper, before becoming the focal point of the song. Everyone, aside from Techno and Dream, eventually join in to a rather horrible, but enjoyable cacophony of off-kilter tempos and small snickers whenever someone messes up particularly badly.

_ I feel alive _

_ And it's okay _

_ Yeah, we're okay _

But even if they don’t sing, they bop along to the song. Tommy spots Dream slowly swaying to the beat of the music. Tubbo pretends he has a microphone and gestures dramatically as he sings.

_ When the lights go out _

_ And your blood is pumping _

_ There's a power to be found _

_ I feel alive _

It’s nice. He could get used to this, a warm fire to get rid of the air’s chill, surrounded by loved ones, simply enjoying each other's presence and company.

Eventually, high energy singing turns into low mumbles and half-played guitar tunes, so everyone decides to call it a night. Luckily, Tommy doesn’t have to bunk with Dream. Instead, he gets to share a tent with Tubbo, the most obvious choice as the only two teens in the group. Techno and Phil share one, while Sam’s alone. Ghostbur and Dream have a tent, too, but they don’t really have a need for sleep, so who knows if they’ll actually do so. When he heads to his tent, they’re still sitting by the fire, but he figures that they won’t do anything rash.

“Night, Tommy,” Tubbo yawns, once the two of them have crawled in and tucked into their blankets. He curls up, facing Tommy’s back, warmth radiating from all around.

“Night,” he responds, and once he’s settled in, he’s out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im pretty certain i had notes i wanted to add at the end but uh... i dont remember. also just ignore the geography of dream smp bc i dont know where anything is so im pulling stuff out of my ass LOL,, my storys a lot better if u dont look into it too much   
> oh and everyones a hybrid bc i said so. its not rly for lore or anything ij ust think its dope as hell  
> also go follow my twitter @dreamybeees for sexy fanart <3


	5. i thought you were gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang makes it to Eret's castle, and consequently, reunites with some old faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS GUYS GUYS WE HAVE OUR FIRST PEICE OF FANART!!!  
> https://twitter.com/pyrixl/status/1346860896333787138  
> BE SURE TO GO FOLLOW THE ARTIST ON TWITTER!!! but ahhh it's so cool i cant believe people wanna make stuff for this!!! be sure to tag me on twitter @dreamybeees so i can see any fanart u guys make bc its so super amazing :D
> 
> me: im not gonna write a long chapter  
> also me: writes a 10k word chapter
> 
> anyways we finally get lore and more characters in this chapter!! hope u guys like it, i was. uh. tired of staring at it so hopefully theres no typos lmao,, i wanted to say more but i dont remember so uh yeah

_ “I didn’t expect you to come and beg for my aid.” There’s somebody in front of him, tall and imposing, voice deep, but laced with borderline amusement as they speak, like they knew this conversation was inevitable. _

_ Tommy blinks in surprise. Wasn’t he just asleep? Where is he? He tries to look around, but his body doesn’t respond, instead choosing to cross its arms on its own accord. _

_ “Yeah, yeah, I know, no need to be boastful,” he says, but it’s all wrong, voice deeper than he remembers it ever being, accented differently. It feels wrong on his tongue. _

_ The person in front of him shifts, moving like a tide in rippling water. He can’t quite discern the details of them, but he can tell that the person has long, white hair, gently flowing in the breeze. They throw their head back and laugh heartily, but something about it sets him on edge, hackles raised. _

_ Tommy-- but not Tommy, since when has he talked like this or acted like this?-- grits his teeth, but unclenches a minute later, forcing himself to relax his shoulders. _

**_You can’t show weakness,_ ** _ the back of his mind says, and he wonders where the fuck that came from. _

_ “So? You’re taking me up on my offer?” The person asks, tone playful. “You won’t be able to back out of the deal, you know.” They remind him, like he’s an oblivious child that doesn’t quite know what they’re getting into. For some reason, Tommy really wishes he could punch this person in the face, though he doesn’t know why. _

_ Tommy sighs. “I know. But I’m not strong enough to do this on my own. Of course, I’m sure you’re already aware of that.” The person hums, tapping their chin. Everything about them is long and lithe; even the outfit. He can’t make out specific details, but they appear to be wearing a dress of sorts, embroidered with white and gold, soft ruffles paired with sharp and flowing angles. The dress ends around the knees in the front, but flows like a cape in the back. They have some white pants on underneath, which is tucked into shoes much too fancy. They’re also adorned in equally as exquisite jewelry, from the necklace that almost reminds him of a crown with the sharp accents and multicolored jewels, to the golden feather earrings that sparkle in the sunlight, everything about this person is expensive and ethereal. Beautiful, but dangerous, like a rose with thorns. _

_ “Yes, yes. Well, it’s not like I’ll say no. It gets quite boring being stuck here all the time, you know.” They gesture out, and it’s only then that Tommy realizes they’re not in any kind of place he recognizes.  _

_ They’re standing on a cliff, trees and flowers all around them, but something about the view is wrong. A second later, he realizes why-- everything keeps blinking in and out, like they’re stuck in a hazy dream, replaced with a foggy white void, before returning to the cliffside. It flickers in and out like a distorted piece of glass, and he has to force his gaze away to keep from being sick. _

_ Tommy doesn’t reply, fighting a scowl off of his face, replacing it with as neutral a look he can muster. If the person is bothered, they don’t show it, instead sticking their hand out.  _

_ “Well? Will you accept my help?” They ask. They’re wearing sheer white gloves with golden leaves patterning it, a ruby ring on the index finger.  _

_ Tommy sighs. “You’re not going to tell me what you want until I agree, are you?” _

_ “You know me too well, my dear,” they grin. Tommy stares down at the hand. _

_ He shouldn’t do this. _

_ Nothing with this person ever goes well. _

_ But he needs to, if he wants to keep him and his loved ones safe.  _

_ (They say they’ve changed, but have they really? Is this worth the risk? What if it all goes wrong?) _

_ He bites his lip, but sighs, taking the hand in his own. They shake once, the other person’s grin turning predatory. _

_ “I look forward to working with you, Dream.” _

  
  


He wakes with a start. He gasps in a breath, eyes darting around, disoriented. He’s even more so when someone places their hands on his shoulders, big blue eyes staring worriedly into his.

“Tommy, are you alright?” The person asks.

Tommy? But he’s not… wait… 

“Tubbo?” Tommy asks, voice raspy. “What happened?”

Tubbo’s shoulders drop in relief, tension releasing from his eyebrows. “I think you were having a nightmare or something. I woke up to you muttering some stuff and you looked pretty upset, so I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn’t… Until now, anyways.” He gives him a wobbly smile. “You really worried me, Big Man.”

Tommy blinks, taking a breath. Right, he’s Tommy, of course he’s fucking Tommy, who else would he be? They’re out camping because of Dream…

_ Dream. _

What the hell was that dream, speaking of the man? It was way more vivid and strange than his normally ever are. Even weirder that the mysterious person in his dream called him, well, Dream.

“I’m fine. Just had a weird dream,” he responds honestly, when he remembers he hasn’t replied to Tubbo yet. He can think about that dream more later, or something. God, he’s really tired of using that word. Why the fuck must the man’s name be something so stupid and common? Why couldn’t he be named, like, Tyler or something?

Tubbo frowns. “Well, alright. You sure you’re okay?” Tommy rolls his eyes, shoving his friend out of his personal space goodnaturedly. Tubbo lets out an ‘oof’ as his back hits the blankets, pouting.

“I’m fine. Promise,” Tommy says, holding out his pinky finger. Tubbo’s eyes widen, but he links his pinky as well. When they pinky promise, shit’s serious. 

“Okay… We should probably get ready then, since it’s morning,” Tubbo replies. Tommy blinks in surprise. It is? It honestly felt like he slept for all of five seconds. He doesn’t feel particularly exhausted, which he supposes is lucky. He yawns, stretching his arms.

“Fine, fine. Now get out, I’m not changing with you here!” Tubbo laughs, rolling his eyes, but oliges, zipping open the tent.

“Right, see ya.”

\--

A little while later, everyone’s eaten breakfast and they’ve packed up camp, now readying the horses.

“Dream, you should sit with me this time,” Sam calls out. Dream doesn’t argue, dutifully following along and hopping onto his horse. The ghost frowns as he looks up at the sky, a contemplative expression on his face, but doesn’t say anything before turning back to Sam. 

Techno and Phil are still sitting together because of course they are, which leaves Tubbo and Tommy. He has to admit, once everyone’s on the horses, that the feeling of his friend behind his back is much nicer than Dream’s freezing temperature. Tubbo has always run naturally warm, something he’s eternally grateful for.

“How much longer till we get there?” Ghostbur asks, not far into the journey. Sam squints as he looks up at the sky.

“Probably just a few hours? We should get there by afternoon.” 

“I can’t wait to see Eret again,” Tubbo says excitedly behind him, bouncing in the saddle. “I know they betrayed us and all, but I still miss them.”

“Nah, Eret’s a fine guy,” Techno drawls. “What’s in the past is in the past, ya know?”

“Easy for you to say,” Tommy scoffs. “You weren’t around when they betrayed us. But, yeah, I don’t really care about that anymore.” While he hasn’t talked much with Eret since they betrayed them all and left, he knows that they regret what they did, mostly pushed into the role by unfortunate circumstances rather than the want to.

As for how they’ll feel about Dream being dead… Well, that’s a problem for his future self to handle.

\--

“Holy shit!” Tubbo exclaims. “They really have expanded the castle!” Sure enough, even though they’ve still got a little ways to go, the castle looms in the distance, angled Victorian architecture sprawled across the land. The main part of the castle stands strong and proud, a large bell hanging at the top. Even from a distance, he can tell that the castle’s primarily made from different types of stone, with dark oak logs as accents, glowstone hanging off the walls. 

Tommy yawns, briefly handing the reins over to Tubbo as he stretches his arms over his head. Sam, true to his word, was right about the timing. It’s probably noonish now, sun high in the sky. Dream perks up a little when he notices the castle, but doesn’t say anything.

“It’s bigger than I remember,” Phil muses.

“Sally said that about my d--” Ghostbur starts, but is cut off by Techno single-handedly unsheathing his axe and pointing it towards him.

_ “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” _

Ghostbur laughs, waving the axe away. “Alright, I won’t. No need to be so aggressive.” His brother scowls, but lifts the axe back, sheathing it across his back. How he managed to do all of that while on a moving horse, he doesn’t know. Just a Technoblade thing, maybe.

“We’re here,” Sam announces, cutting them off from any further bickering. The castle doesn’t have gates, since there isn’t really a need for them, so they’ve managed to walk up to nearly just the entrance itself. The castle doors are large and rounded, polished wood shining amidst the sun. There’s a big ring to knock through the middle, detailed with designs of spirals and leaves.

“Wow…” Tommy mutters to himself, staring up at the castle. Being so close has him aware of just how tall the entire thing is, nearly blocking out the clouds from his view. A rainbow flag is raised high in the sky, flapping wildly with the breeze. 

“Let’s leave the horses here,” Sam says, pointing to a tethering post nearby. There’s no horses around, though there’s some hay and water. 

“Right,” Techno agrees, and everyone makes quick work of tethering their horses and hopping off, eager to be done with travel. Everyone except Ghostbur, anyways, who pouts, splaying himself across Friend’s back.

Phil sighs, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. “Wilbur, you can’t bring Friend inside.”

“Friend is my friend, I can’t leave them out here!” He protests. Friend looks rather indifferent, nosing at a patch of grass, nipping Frost when she gets too close.

“Friend will be fine out here,” Sam agrees. “There’s plenty of food and water.” Ghostbur’s pout only grows wider, fists digging into their cerulean wool.

“You know, we made it this far, I nominate we just leave Ghostbur out here,” Techno says without a hint of sarcasm.

Ghostbur’s head shoots up at that, glaring daggers in Techno’s direction. “What?! No, no way! I’m not being left behind!”

“Then get off Friend and come with us, or else we’re leaving you here,” the hybrid deadpans. Ghostbur scowls, but pauses when Friend lets out a little bleat.

“Are you sure?” He asks Friend, which is a little weird, but hey, Tommy can see past it. Friend baas again, face nudging lightly at Ghostbur. He sighs.

“Well, alright then… I’ll be back soon, though!” He promises. He untangles himself out of Friend, hopping down. Friend resumes eating grass.

“Did you just… talk to your sheep?” Tubbo questions, incredulous.

“Told you they had a telepathic bond,” Techno replies, though he shrugs. 

“You never told me that!” Tubbo protests. “Besides, how was I supposed to know that ghosts and sheep can talk with each other in their minds?”

“Friend and I have a special bond!” Ghostbur interrupts. “Don’t you dare say that it’s something everyone can do,” he growls, as if he actually feels threatened by the idea that anyone else will want to telepathically bond with a sheep.

“Alright, everyone, settle down, yeah?” Phil raises his hands placatingly. “We’re here, we made it to the castle. Let’s just go see everyone.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Tommy agrees, eager to just have this shit be done and over with. It feels kind of comical to just walk up to the doors and knock like you would any other house, since even the castle doors are twice as large as anyone here, but that’s exactly what they do. Dream hides himself behind Sam, looking a little nervous, though it’s hard to tell since he never displays much in the way of emotion.

It doesn’t take long for them to hear the sound of footsteps steadily growing closer, before suddenly stopping.

The door opens, and they become face to face with Eret.

“...Hi, Eret.” Sam, in the front of the group, is the one to break the silence, waving awkwardly. Eret stares at them for a moment, caught off guard. They’re not even wearing their sunglasses, nor the outfit they started to wear when crowned king, instead now in a beige dress and green cardigan that’s oversized.

“Hello, Sam, and everyone else. To what do I owe the pleasure?” They ask, hand pressed against the door. They’re a little suspicious, clearly, and Tommy can’t blame them. While Sam got along with them fine, the rest of them had been on sort of rocky terms with the whole betrayal and all.

“It’s… sort of complicated. Can we come in first?” Sam refutes, rubbing the back of his neck. It’s a miracle Eret hasn’t noticed Dream yet, but maybe that’s why he chose to hide behind the tallest person in the group, pressed against Sam’s back.

Eret frowns at them almost suspiciously, but nods, gesturing them in. “Sure, I guess.” The group follows them into another, smaller room offset from the main room of the castle, which is much cozier. Stone is replaced with dark oak wood, there’s a small fireplace crackling in the corner, and towering bookshelves line the walls, overflowing with multicolored covers and trinkets. There are some ornate-looking armchairs and couches sitting around a coffee table in the center, and they gesture for everyone to sit before doing so themselves. Everyone except Dream and Sam, anyways, with Sam being unable to sit thanks to the ghost hiding behind his back.

“So what brings you all here?” They ask. “No offense, but we usually don’t talk.” Sam sighs, before side-stepping out of the way, to reveal Dream in all his glory. Dream, to his credit, doesn’t run and hide like Tommy half expected him to, but he freezes like a deer caught in the headlights.

Eret’s eyes grow impossibly wide. “Wait-- is that--?”

“Dream?” Techno finishes, voice monotone. “Yeah, it is.”

“But he’s-- dead? A ghost? When did this happen? How?” Eret asks, tone breathy and horribly confused.

“We’re not sure about either of those,” Sam admits, crossing his arms. “Dream was dead the last time I went to go see him in prison, so who knows how long he was killed beforehand. As for who did it, he won’t tell us.”

“He was  _ killed?” _ Eret exclaims in surprise. 

“Well, yeah, how else would he have died?” Tommy asks quizzically. Eret frowns, looking away uncomfortably.

“I don’t know, I just sort of figured that since he was alone, locked up in prison for months, that maybe he just…” They trail off, but Tommy’s eyes grow wide when he realizes what they’re implying.

It makes perfect sense, of course, but the thought is jarring. There’s no way somebody like Dream could do that, right?

Then again, nobody thought Tommy would do something like that, either.

“No, no, he didn’t do, um, that.” Sam replies instantly, shaking his head. “He was killed by somebody.”

Eret’s frown only deepens as they think. “Who could even be strong enough to do that?”

“That’s what we’ve been wonderin’,” Techno sighs. Eret runs a hand through their wavy brown hair.

“Well that’s not good. I’m sorry we had to meet under such circumstances,” they say. “I assume you’re not here to talk to me personally, though?” They continue with a knowing tone. Sam bites his lip, nodding his head.

“No, you’re right. Dream agreed that if he makes sure his friends are safe, he’ll reveal the details of who killed him.” It’s at this point that Dream makes his way back to Sam, latching onto his side.

Eret raises a knowing eyebrow. “So, you want to see Sapnap and George, I take it?”

Dream perks up, nodding. “...And Bad,” he whispers, fingers digging into the sleeve of Sam’s jacket.

“Bad doesn’t actually live here,” Eret replies, a flash of pity on their face before it smooths out to something neutral. “Right now, it’s just me, Puffy, Punz, George, and Sapnap.”

“Oh, really? I never thought they’d split up,” Phil muses, tapping his chin. “What’d they call themselves? The… Muffinteers?”

“Something like that,” Eret agrees. “He’s living with Skeppy and Ant now, I think,” they say. Sam nods in understanding.

“Makes sense,” he muses. “Bad’s really close with them, too.”

“Well, can we see the ones here, at least?” Tubbo asks from next to him, bouncing in his seat. Eret chuckles and nods, pulling out their communicator. 

“Sure, sure, let me just text them.” A few seconds later, they frown, tapping at it. “Huh, it’s not working right now. Strange. Well,” they start, standing up in one fluid motion, dress drifting around them like a river flowing through the earth, “I’ll go and grab them. I’ll be back in just a second!” With that, they disappear out of the room, dress trailing after them.

“Are you excited to see them, Dream?” Phil asks, after a moment of silence. Dream hesitates, but nods.

“And… scared,” he admits. “They might…. not like… me anymore.”

“You never know,” Phil answers, always knowing the right thing to say. Tommy’s never been good at making people feel better, especially since Dream’s probably right about that. When everyone grouped together to fight him one last time, Sapnap and George pretty much completely severed their ties with him, seething with hatred. But maybe seeing their old friend as a sad ghost will make them act nicer to him?

Honestly, he doesn’t care too much about how the reunion goes, but they need to know who the fuck killed Dream, especially since it sounds like they’ll go after everyone else, too. At least they’ll have a  _ shot  _ at survival if they know what to prepare for. His resolve only grows when he looks around at everyone, Tubbo leaning into him.

He won’t let Tubbo get hurt anymore. Not if he can stop it.

“Maybe,” Dream agrees, though he doesn’t sound very confident.

It’s not long before Eret returns, and although they’re alone, they’re carrying a large pile of different fabrics.

“Where’s everyone else?” Ghostbur asks, now bored enough to start hovering in the air and do stretches.

“I told them to come down here as soon as they can to see what was up for themselves,” Eret replies. “I didn’t tell them the specifics because I sort of figured it’d be better for them to see it firsthand, unless you guys think otherwise.”

“No, that’s what we did with you,” Sam agrees. “Only fair.”

“What’s with the clothes and shit?” Tommy asks, pointing at the stuff Eret’s holding. They grunt as they toss the pile onto a free space on one of the couches.

“These are some clothes, actually, for Dream.” They look a little bit nervous. “Sorry if that’s out of line, I just figured he might want some different clothes, since he’s still wearing that prison outfit…” They gesture towards Dream.

Sure enough, Dream’s wearing what the prison supplied, which was a very unassuming plain shirt layered over a skin-tight long sleeved shirt and pants. No strings, no designs, just plain, dark clothes. Tommy never really gave it a second thought, probably because they’re just that  _ boring. _ He should’ve, since Dream has always been one for theatrics, but alas, there were bigger problems at hand than his wardrobe.

“Oh! That’s a good idea, I didn’t think of that.” Sam smiles brightly at Eret, who relaxes visibly. “Thanks, Eret.” They smile back. 

“Of course. I’m not sure what Dream likes to wear, so I just got a few different items. We should be a similar size. You can pick what you please,” they say, gesturing towards the clothes. After a little nudging from Sam, Dream gets up, shuffling over to the pile and starts to sort through them. It doesn’t take him long to pick what he wants, turning around with a few items in his arms, mostly monochrome colors like green and black, from what he can see.

“Oh, right, you need to change. There’s a bathroom right over there,” Eret says, pointing to a door leading out of the room. “You can just change in there!”

“...Thanks,” Dream whispers, nodding at them before heading off to the bathroom. He does so at either the perfect or worst time, as just as the door shuts, Tommy can hear a couple of voices growing louder, footsteps echoing across the walls. He shares a glance with Tubbo, whose eyes are wide, and then two new people enter the room.

“Is this the surprise?” Punz is the first to ask, looking rather indifferent. Puffy stands next to him, casting suspicious side-glances towards the group.

“Hi, guys,” Tubbo says, waving a hand. “Long time no see!”

“...Yeah,” Punz agrees. “Er-- Tommy, I’m sorry for trying to kill you that one time.” Tommy blinks, not expecting an apology.

“It’s whatever, I guess,” he replies offhandedly. He can’t say he’s exactly already forgiven those who wronged him in the past, but then again, he’s also hurt people. Nobody was innocent in all those wars and politics, so he also can’t say that he hates anyone anymore. 

The wounds still linger, but the past is the past.

“So why are you guys here?” Puffy asks. “We don’t get new visitors often.” She tilts her head, crossing her arms.

Dream picks this moment, of course, to be done changing. The bathroom door creaks open. Dream pokes his head out, but instantly retreats the second he notices the new additions to the group. But of course, they notice him, too.

“Wait, was that--?” 

“Oh my god, Dream?!” Puffy gasps, hands flying to her mouth, any impression of anger gone and replaced with borderline horror.

“Dream, stop hiding,” Techno calls out, annoyed. There’s a muffled response in return.

“Why is Dream here?” Puffy demands, eyes wide with shock. Oh, right, the last time anyone saw him, he was safely banished away to a prison that’s hardly better than the void.

“He… kind of sort of died?” Sam mentions awkwardly.

“What?!” Punz now looks shell-shocked, fingers twitching, eyes impossibly wide. It’s at this moment that Dream finally gathers the courage to leave the bathroom, slowly slinking back to the group.

The outfit he’s wearing looks pretty good on him, actually. Dream picked out a black turtleneck, a sage green bomber style jacket, and pale brown corduroy pants. He’s got a big, dark green hood that looks detachable from the jacket over his head, stuffing his curls in, aside from a few stray ones. From the sliver of hand that he can see, it looks like Dream’s also wearing gloves now. It’s impressive how just a wardrobe change makes him look more alive and less like a corpse. If you squint hard enough and ignore the very inhuman skin tone, he’d actually look pretty normal. 

It’s a good thing Eret has an impeccable sense of style, fond of colors Dream also likes, though more subdued. Bright greens traded for desaturated tones, simple designs in black. Before Dream got imprisoned, he always wore an obnoxiously bright lime colored hoodie. It was an incredible eyesore, but it made him stand out from a mile away, which is probably what he was going for. His whoring for attention rivaled even Tommy’s.

He shifts shyly on his feet, hands playing with the long sleeves of his jacket that reach nearly past his entire hand, which is unsurprising since Eret’s clothes run a little long. He thinks they like the flowiness of oversized clothes or something, their own cardigan reaching just past their fingertips.

“...Hi, Punz, and Puffy…” He greets softly. Puffy’s eyes water.

“Oh my god, Dream,” Punz breathes out, sounding like he just got punched in the lungs. The two of them unanimously rush to hug him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, he’s very cold,” Tommy calls out, but it’s too late. The two of them pounce on Dream, and don’t let go, even as they shiver. Dream tenses, looking completely out of his element, but once he realizes they don’t want to kill him, his arms raise to wrap around them. 

“Hi,” he whispers, sounding choked. Puffy starts crying at that, while Punz just holds on so tight it looks like Dream and Puffy might snap in two. Eret smiles softly at the sight.

“Why are they crying?” Tommy whispers to Tubbo, as if he’d have any better idea. Tubbo leans in towards him.

“Punz and Dream were always really close friends until the end, and Puffy was sort of a mother figure to Dream,” he whispers back. Oh, so he  _ does  _ have a better idea. Though he always knew Punz and Dream were friends, he had no idea about him and Puffy, but then again, he was in exile for a while, so he kind of missed out on a whole lot of shit.

It’s not long before the two pull back, both looking a little more blue than previously.

“Geez, you’re really cold,” Puffy laughs, teeth chattering. Dream looks apologetic, but doesn’t say anything, instead retreating to be closer to Sam. If the two are offended, they don’t show it, instead gratefully accepting blankets Eret hands them as they sit down.

“Hi, guys!” Ghostbur, who previously had been entertained by all the books, now hovers over closer to them.

“Hey, Ghostbur, long time no see,” Punz greets, Puffy nodding. 

“You have so many cool books here, Eret!” Ghostbur exclaims, gesturing back to them. “Do you mind if I borrow a couple? I really like to read, but I haven’t had many to choose from.”

“Of course. Be my guest,” they reply easily. Ghostbur brightens up immediately with a blindingly bright smile, returning back to the bookshelves as he decides what to pick. Punz groans, stretching his arms behind his neck.

“So,” he says. “Dream is dead.”

“Yup,” Tubbo replies, swinging his legs.

“What’s the game plan, then? Did you come here just to tell us?” He asks. “I appreciate the sentiment, but that’s an awful lot of work when you could have just texted.”

“Kind of? But not quite. You see, Dream was killed, but he needs to make sure everyone’s safe before he reveals the details of who killed him.” Sam explains, looking a little tired of having to constantly repeat the same explanation.

“Killed?” Punz repeats, disbelieving. “How the hell did that happen?”

“That’s the problem, we don’t know until he tells us.”

Puffy nods next to him. “Okay, so why is it so important that we know who killed him?”

Surprisingly, it’s Dream that speaks up. “Because… he.... will come after… you all, too…” He trails off, curling his legs in front of him.

“That sounds, uh, not good.” Puffy says. “But if it’s that dangerous, shouldn’t you tell us sooner rather than later? If you guys plan on visiting everyone on this server before saying anything, it’s gonna take a while.” Dream seems to consider this.

“Scared,” he admits. “Of someone… already being… hurt.”

“Okay, how about a deal, Dream?” Puffy asks. “When George and Sapnap get here, you tell us who hurt you. Then, we can text everyone and ask them to meet us here. Does that sound fair?”

Dream frowns intently, pondering this for a minute, before nodding very hesitantly. Holy shit, Tommy could cry. They’re finally getting somewhere! No more aimlessly running around, desperately trying to coax any information they could from him, there’s now  _ substance _ ! They’re finally gonna know who the hell they’re up against.

Who knew all it took was for Dream to be reunited with his mother figure? Speaking of, Dream apparently trusts her more now, once again detaching from Sam’s side to awkwardly go over to where the others are sitting. Eret smiles and moves to an armchair, and Dream takes their spot, leaning into Puffy’s side. She jumps a little, but brings a hand up to pat the top of his head.

“Speaking of George and Sapnap, where are they?” Techno asks, leaning back in his chair. 

“They might be a minute, but I’m sure they’ll show up,” Eret supplies. They hesitate, pausing. “I… If I’m being honest, I think they’ve been pretty depressed ever since they lost Dream.”

“Yeah,” Punz agrees, nodding. “I’m not as close to them as I was to Dream, but they’ve been acting differently. More, like, lethargic. Sapnap’s easier to anger, George is quieter. Even while we’ve been living here, they mostly stick together and stay in their room.”

“I thought they hated Dream after all that happened?” Tommy frowns.

“Relationships are confusin’, Tommy,'' Techno grunts. “They did hate him, but they were also the best of friends for most of their lives. It’s gotta be weird for their emotions.”

“I never would’ve expected you to have such a way with words!” Tubbo exclaims next to him, earning a bonk on the head from the piglin hybrid.

“Makes sense, but hopefully they show up soon,” Sam sighs. “I’ve been doing a lot of waiting for the past few days.”

“I can go and try and get them, if you want,” Punz offers. 

Ghostbur, who has found a book he liked and settled in on the floor, lifts his head. “No need,” he says ominously. “They’re coming.”

“What is it with ghosts and their weird omniscience?!” Tommy hollers. Only a few seconds later, the door swings open, revealing the two they were waiting for.

Tommy doesn’t wanna say they look bad, but, well--they look bad. Compared to the last time he saw them, at least.

Sapnap’s normally tanned skin has turned into a pallor white, remnants of dark circles under his eyes. His hair’s grown longer, but it doesn’t look like it’s been brushed in a while, pulled up into a messy ponytail. George, meanwhile, has always been short, but now he looks even smaller, hunched into himself, clothes baggier than he remembered them being. He can’t tell how George looks since he has his goggles on, but he’s frowning.

Sapnap only scowls when he notices them, crossing his arms.

“What-- why the fuck are they here?” Sapnap is the first to speak, moving to stand almost protectively in front of George, as if he’s afraid they’re gonna start attacking or some shit. He glares accusingly at them, to which Tommy and Techno glare right back.

“I think the better question is why you guys hate us so much,” he spits. “We did nothing to you, what the fuck!” Sapnap, not having a proper rebuttal for that, just growls lowly as he directs his gaze elsewhere.

He happens to look where Dream is, who’s been trying to blend into Puffy’s side as much as possible.

“H...hi,” Dream whispers, putting a hand up shyly. 

“What the fuck is this,” Sapnap says, voice tight. “Is this a joke to you guys or something?”

“Excuse me?” Sam asks.

Sapnap points an accusatory finger at Dream. “I don’t know what the fuck this thing is, but this isn’t Dream!” Dream’s hand drops instantly, eyes growing wide. “Dream is gone and I’ll never see him again!” He shouts. His anger is visible, from the way his body shakes, to the way he’s tense like he’s ready to start fighting, he’s coiled up like a spring about to burst. 

George comes up behind Sapnap, an unreadable look on his face. “Sapnap,” he whispers. “I… I think that might be Dream.”

Sapnap glowers at George. “Then why the fuck does he look like-- like  _ that?! _ ”

“I think,” George swallows thickly, “it’s because he’s dead.”

Complete and utter silence fills the room, oppressively cloying to every atom, suffocating and stifling. Nobody speaks, too afraid of breaking the spell. Even Ghostbur averts his gaze back down to his books, though he doesn’t turn the pages. Sapnap stares at George in a look much too heartbroken, much too emotional, for Tommy to feel right looking at it. He pointedly looks the other way. This is a moment for  _ them,  _ and them only, even if the room is filled with people.

“W...what do you mean, he’s dead?” Sapnap questions, voice completely devoid of the anger it had previously. Now it’s hollow, cracked at the seams, like he can’t quite believe the words he’s heard. Borderline heartbroken, but also empty.

“I mean,” George says softly, gesturing to Dream, “look at him. He… he’s Dream, but he’s not the one we knew. He even has his mask,” he whispers, not mentioning that the mask is now cracked in half.

“But--how--why-- _ dead? _ ” Sapnap babbles, unable to link the thoughts together. George nods, and with that, Sapnap loses any fight he could’ve had, collapsing to the floor. George falls with him, the two clinging to each other like a lifeline as they huddle together, much too emotional and so unlike their normal, boisterous personalities for Tommy to feel right about it.

“I…” Eret uncomfortably rubs their neck, “I feel bad for interrupting, but George is right. Dream died and came back as a ghost, which is why they’re here.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Sapnap chokes, disbelieving. “He can’t be  _ dead. _ ” He shaskes his head, dropping his head onto George’s shoulder.

Dream silently untangles himself from Puffy, slowly walking over to where the other two are. Sapnap, with his face hidden in George’s neck, doesn’t notice him, but George does. He simply gives a slight nod of his head, and that’s all Dream needs as he drops down and wraps his arms around them.

Sapnap jumps at the cold, lifting his head, eyes growing impossibly wide. “D-Dream?!”

“Hi… Pandas, George,” Dream whispers. Sapnap blinks once, twice, before completely breaking down, silently sobbing into the hug. While George doesn’t cry, Tommy can tell that this is an emotional reunion for him, too, leaning into Dream.

“Long time no see, Dream,” George says quietly.

“Yeah…” he whispers back.

“We missed you,” George admits. “Sorry for locking you away and everything.” Dream shakes his head.

“It’s okay… had to… do what you had… to. I understand. I… I missed you too.”

George sniffs. “Damn you, you’re gonna make me cry now,” he chuckles. Dream doesn’t quite smile, but if you squint hard enough, you could pretend that he is, from the way his eyes crinkle ever so slightly.

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding very sorry.

Sapnap, now having calmed down a little, lifts his head enough to be heard. “So it’s really you, then? Just as a ghost?” Dream nods as Sapnap’s expression crumples. “Fuck,” he chokes. “How did that happen?”

Dream chews on his bottom lip. “After we… calm down… and explain why we’re here… I’ll tell you… all of you.” The last part is directed to the rest of the group, awkwardly sitting in silence.

“Fuck you, I’m perfectly calm,” Sapnap laughs, voice nasally. He drops his head back onto George’s shoulder, who shifts so that he’s more in the center of the hug, while Dream rests his chin on the top of his head.

“I feel like I’m not supposed to be here,” Techno whispers, but he sort of sucks at whispering, so Tommy can hear it clearly.

Ghostbur sighs. “Tell me about it,” he whispers back, equally as horrible at it. “It’s a very touching reunion, though.”

“Shut up!” Phil shushes. 

“You know, you’re kind of ruining the moment,” George deadpans. Tommy bursts into laughter, which prompts Tubbo to, and it sets off a chain reaction of giggles and teary eyes. The somber mood in the air is now lifted, and finally, after a few minutes, Sapnap and George release from the group hug.

“Sorry for blowing up on you guys,” Sapnap says guiltily as he stands up, regret flashing in his eyes. “It’s been... harder than we realized, missing one of our own.”

“No need to apologize,” Phil smiles. “We know the pain all too well.” Sapnap blinks, glancing at Ghostbur, before realization sparks, eyes widening. 

“Oh, yeah. I guess you guys would understand,” he nods in agreement. “I just figured I should apologize anyways, though. Still wasn’t right of me.” He shakes his head at that, sighing.

“Wow, you’ve really gone through some character development while we were gone, huh?” Tommy muses. “Sapnap apologizing! I never-- _ oof!”  _ He’s brought out of his smug monologue as Sapnap hits him on the head as he passes by him.

“Shut it, you child. Some of us can actually learn to be better people.” Sapnap says it as though it’s obvious, and hey, maybe it is. He ignores the last part, though, because how dare he call  _ Tommy _ of all people a child?! Sapnap’s only a few years older than him!

“I’m not a child!” He retorts hotly.

“Yeah, no, I think you are a child,” George agrees in his normally deadpan voice. Against all odds, Tommy finds himself glad that the infuriatingly calm tone is back, since earlier he sounded so quiet, like he was afraid of bringing life to a room, afraid of being noticed.

He and Sapnap find an empty loveseat to sit on, and Dream is apparently quite fond of them already, as he forces himself into their space. He probably should’ve guessed that since the three of them just hugged and cried for like five minutes straight, but whatever. The two of them don’t seem to mind, luckily, making room where there shouldn’t be any. It’s a tight fit, Dream practically sitting on their laps, but they look rather comfortable.

Tommy growls. “I’m not a--”

“Anyways,” George interrupts pointedly, “what’s the deal? How did Dream, um, pass away?”

“You can just say die,” Sapnap snorts, like he wasn’t in serious denial about Dream dying just a minute ago.

“Shut up!” George retorts, and the two of them get into as much of a fight as one can while separated by a ghost on a couch. Eret just sighs, while Punz puts his face in his hands.

“This is a common occurrence,” Puffy helpfully supplies.

Sam coughs loudly into his hand, monetarily stopping the fight as both faces turn towards him. “I found Dream as a ghost, one day, while visiting,” he starts, not so subtly telling them to stop acting like children. Thankfully, they do just that, though not before scowling at each other like they hate each other’s guts. Obviously, they don’t, but it’s kind of amusing that even as adults, they pick fights like how Tommy and Tubbo always did when they were toddlers.

“What happened next?” Sapnap asks pleasantly, like he wasn’t at George’s throat the second before, and Sam clears his throat before he starts to tell their tale.

\--

“Wow,” George says, pulling up his goggles to rub at his eyes. Like Sapnap, there’s purple bags under his dark brown eyes, only accentuated by his pale skin. “You guys have been busy.”

“Yep. But Dream’s gonna tell us the whole story now, right?” Techno says pointedly, raising a brow. Dream fidgets under the attention from everyone, but nods.

“It’s… a long story… so it might take some… time,” he warns. Sapnap throws an arm around his shoulder.

“No worries. We’ve got all the time in the world!” He laughs. Dream diverts his gaze.

“W-well, I guess…. your first question… is… who killed... me?” When everyone nods, he sighs. “His name is… Night.”

“Night?” Eret repeats quizzically. “I’ve never met somebody with that name.”

“No, I don’t think…. anyone has… except me.. Not as the real him, at least.” He says cryptically.

“So, what, this mysterious Night came and killed you? And is now planning to kill all of us? How exactly did he get into the prison?” Phil questions, tilting his head. 

“Maybe Dream has a shadow demon,” Tommy jokes, earning him an elbow in the rib from Tubbo. Dream shakes his head.

“Not… quite. We are like...how do I describe this…” He pauses, frowning in thought. “Two sides of the same… coin. He’s my… counterpart.”

“As in, you have an evil side to you?” Techno asks. He shakes his head, clearly getting a little frustrated that nobody’s really getting the point. Tommy himself is confused, but then again, when is he not?

“No. He’s… his own person… but we were created… together. We were meant… to balance each other out.”

“Created together?” Tommy repeats. “Why do you say that like you’re not human?” 

“B-because I’m… not,” Dream admits, pulling on his sleeves. 

“Wait, what?” George asks, puzzled. “What do you mean you’re not human?”

“Yeah, if you were a hybrid, you could always just say so, ya know?” Techno drawls. “Not like anyone here would judge.” He gestures a hand out, since about half the group here has some clearly inhuman traits, from Tubbo’s tiny horns to Puffy’s floppy ears.

“No, I’m not… a hybrid, either.”

Tomy shares an equally perplexed look with everyone around him. Not a human, but not a hybrid? That really only leaves a few possibilities, but all of them are so insane that they can’t possibly be true. “Well, then, what are you?”

Dream sighs. “Night and I… were created by… the divines.” 

“You-- you’re an  _ admin?!” _ Tommy shrieks, Tubbo gasping alongside him. Even Dream’s closest friends look absolutely shell shocked at this information, Sapnap’s eyes wide, George frozen in place. Punz stares at him like he’s grown a second head.

Everyone knows what admins are, of course. Beings that aren’t quite mortals, aren’t quite gods, somewhere snugly in between. Some people call them angels, others call them heretics. It’s said that they’re created by the gods to help manage and look after the universe, though the number of admins alive is unknown, some guessing as few as double digits to as many as thousands. Admins are usually easily recognizable due to their ethereal appearance, along with the fact that they often don’t hide their powers. For example, one of the biggest servers around, Hypixel, is run primarily by an admin that you could spot from a mile away with their ethereal appearance.

Admins are… strange, to say the least. Powerful yet also not, rare but exceedingly common, blessed with the ability to handle what normal people couldn’t in thousands of years.

And Dream-- Dream is one of _ them _ ?! The asshole with a little smiley face mask is a fucking  _ admin? _ What universe does he live in right now?

“Why didn’t you ever tell us?” George whispers, somewhere between betrayed and shocked.

“Couldn’t,” Dream answers. “Not with… Night around.”

“So, this Night dude is an admin, too?” Tommy asks. If that’s the case, then they’re kind of sort of fucked, since there’s no way they themselves could kill him. He’s pretty sure only god and admins can kill other admins.

“Yes… Like I said, we were… created to balance each other. I’m the light… he’s the dark, so to speak.”

“Wow, a dude named Night is the evil darkness? Who ever would’ve seen that coming?” Techno snorts sarcastically.

“Well, his full name is.... Nightmare,” Dream says. “The same way… mine is… Daydream.”

“Hold on, this whole time, we’ve never even known your full name?!” Sapnap shouts. “Dude! We’ve been best friends forever! How did I never know about any of this?! I never met Night, either!”

“I kept him away,” Dream states, point blank, as though everyone isn’t still processing that this dude is an  _ admin.  _ “Night is… not a good person,” he admits. “He views… people as little more than… playthings… for his amusement. He’s never cared… about keeping people safe or happy.”

“Wow, this dude sounds like a real dick,” Punz states, resting a hand on his cheek as he leans on his knees. “If you guys are connected, why’d he kill you?”

Dream sighs, rubbing at his eye. “Long story. When I was… younger, he did something. I considered it irredeemable. We got into a… huge fight. It took all of my power… but I was able… to lock him away in… a mindspace realm.”

Tommy’s starting to get a headache. Tubbo speaks up. “What’s a mindspace realm? And what did he do?”

“A mindspace realm is… a place only… admins and gods can… access. I locked him in… one, so that… he couldn’t hurt anyone… anymore. But locking him away… weakened me, too… so when I decided to make… a server, one that could be...safe, for everyone, free from all the pain.” 

That’s a reference to the fact that a lot of worlds have had groups of bandits come in and steal what they could, killing anyone in their paths. It was dangerous, because most servers weren’t whitelisted, as it took an incredible amount of power to do so, so a majority of citizens were in danger. It’s especially true because worlds are automatically hardcore, which, again, takes a lot of strength to change. To have a server be both whitelisted and not hardcore is rare, usually only created by admins, but not always. Some admins tried to help the vulnerable servers, but they were spread thin, mostly protecting the bigger servers, so bandits slipped through the cracks.

Tommy himself, luckily, never had to deal with bandits. Phil is stronger than he looks, and the world he made for them was--is-- as safe as safe can be. Even so, he couldn’t make a server that both wasn’t hardcore  _ and  _ had a whitelist, so when Dream offered for them to join his server, they jumped in with no hesitation. Phil had stayed for a while longer, more adept at combat and a little distrusting of a man they barely knew as an acquaintance at that point, and waiting for Techno to come back from whatever wars he was fighting in in Hypixel… Something about potatoes? Honestly he doesn’t know. They did, eventually, come and join the server too, though.

“I couldn’t…. do it on my own. I wasn’t strong enough. We… we were always meant to be together.” He swallows thickly. Tommy doesn’t like where this is going.

“Please don’t tell me you made a deal with the devil,” Eret says.

“I… made a deal with him.” He at least has the decency to look guilty about it.

“How the fuck is it any better to go from being safe from bandits, to being under the influence of someone you say is incredibly evil?” Sapnap challenges, knitting his eyebrows together.

Dream throws a hand out exasperatedly. “Because my world was… safe! Multiple lives… no bandits… no wars… just friends. Or that was… it was that at first.” 

“Then what? Did Night start fucking around?” Tommy questions, crossing his arms.

“Kind of. When he and I came to an… agreement, he was… cryptic with what he… wanted. But I thought it was… worth the risk.” He stares down at his lap. “I was wrong.”

Well, if that doesn’t bode well for them, he doesn’t know what does. Maybe the fact that an admin is a ghost, or that there’s another admin in this world that’s batshit insane, is also up there. 

Before anyone can ask more questions, he continues. “I should’ve figured… what he wanted. But I thought maybe… the years spent in that realm… made him better. He hasn’t changed. He helped me… create this world, on the condition that he was to always be… entertained.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Tubbo muses. 

“It is when the person who wants entertainment views us as we would slugs,” Techno retorts, raising a brow.

“What are you doing to slugs?!” Tubbo shouts in response, horrified.

“So you’re saying that all this,” Phil gestures out, “--shit that’s been going on is because you had to keep him happy? What happens if you ignore the deal?”

“This,” Dream points to himself, probably implying the whole ghost thing. “But he’d… hurt you all, too. Destroy the world, probably.”

Puffy grimaces. “So, we’ve got a mysterious evil counterpart admin of yourself that wants to end our world. Fun.”

“If locking him away made you weaker, wouldn’t killing you also do the same with him?” Ghostbur asks, crossing his legs.

“Yes and no. When I… fought him, it took some power from me that… can’t ever come back. I’m… permanently weaker than… before that fight. So with me dead, he has… lost some power because of our severed connection… but he’s still most likely stronger than me.” He coughs into his fist, voice gravelly. Dream’s never talked this much as a ghost, and obviously it isn’t doing wonders for his vocal chords. 

“Okay, so, like, what the fuck do we do?” Tubbo ponders. “From what you’ve told us, we’re just kind of sitting ducks until Night comes and kills us all, right?”

“Don’t be such a pessimist,” Sapnap retorts, though his expression is troubled. “There has to be a way. I’m not letting everyone on this server just fucking _ die. _ ”

Dream pulls his legs up, wrapping his arms around them. “There is… a way, I think… to defeat him. But it won’t be easy.”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Sam points out. “Either we defeat him, or he kills us.”

“I wonder why he didn’t just do it instantly,” Eret frowns. “If he killed Dream that easily, surely it’d be equally as easy for him to destroy the world and move on.

“No, we… have some time… I think. I think killing me… temporarily made him weaker as he adjusts… so he’s hiding and recovering. If we… get the jump on him, we might have a chance.” Because Dream never makes things easy, he doesn’t continue.

“Did you ever tell us why he killed you, actually?” Techno asks, frowning.

“Because I couldn’t do what… he wanted anymore. He kept making me… hurt you guys… and create anguish… for him to enjoy. Like a play. It’s why things got… so much worse when Schlatt.. came around.”

“Oh, yeah, speaking of, why did you even invite Schlatt onto the server?” Ghostbur asks. “I don’t remember him, but I’ve heard lots of stories! He didn’t sound like a nice guy.”

“Ah, that… well… When he was invited on, I… didn’t realize who he was. Didn’t realize that… he wasn’t real.”

He’s _ what? _

The man that ordered his best friend’s execution and exiled him and Wilbur from their own country isn’t fucking  _ real _ ? What does that  _ mean?  _ How can he not be real, when Tommy’s seen him, heard him, touched him? When his legacy lived long past his death? When Tubbo still gets nightmares from that fateful night at the festival? How he drove Wilbur to insanity?

That… wasn’t real?

“Excuse me?” It’s George that says that, brows knitting in puzzlement. “How can Schlatt not be real?”

“He’s not… fake as in an illusion… but the Schlatt you knew… wasn’t the real him. The real Schlatt is… still alive, somewhere out there, presumably.”

“He had a clone of himself? What the shit?” Tommy shouts, borderline hysterical. Tubbo puts a comforting hand on his back. Dream shakes his head.

“He wasn’t a clone, either. You see… Schlatt was a man that… above all, wanted riches and power. Night exploited that… and made a deal with him. He’d give Schlatt all the power he could ever want, as long as he could… take the form of him.”

“Take form?” Puffy gasps. “You mean every time people talked with Schlatt-- Night was possessing him?!”

“Not quite,” the ghost disagrees. “Night had complete access to… all of Schlatt’s behaviors, thoughts, memories, the like. He… used those to ‘turn’ into Schlatt, if you will.” He uses air quotations. “He basically… shapeshifted. Because of this, I didn’t realize it was Night… until he had died. Or rather, the form he took as Schlatt died. He broke the deal with Schlatt and severed the connection… when he realized he couldn’t fight through the position he got himself in… with Schlatt’s abilities. Night didn’t die himself, since it was… a shapeshifted form, rather than his actual self. Neither did the real Schlatt. It’s why he never came back as a ghost. That book he gave me…” Dream closes his eyes, taking a breath.

“You’re finally gonna tell us?” Sam asks, with wide eyes. That book had taunted everyone for practically forever, the way it had changed Dream’s entire personality overnight, like a switch had been flipped. Nobody ever managed to get their hands on it, even when Dream got imprisoned, so it was forever a mystery.

“You all wanted to know what was in it… that made me change so drastically. Night told me that taking Schlatt’s form was… just the beginning. He showed me what… entertainment he was looking for. And if I couldn’t provide, he’d do so himself. So I…” He swallows thickly, entire body taut.

“I did what I thought I had to… to keep you all safe. I never meant to hurt you all… but he kept wanting more than I could give… and it got out of hand… Then I was locked in prison. He eventually realized I couldn’t escape and give him the show he wanted. I was just… a useless hinderance in his way… but we had a deal, so he couldn’t strike a new one or… leave me until the deal was… somehow severed. So he killed me.”

Sapnap takes a deep breath, putting his head in his hands. George twists his hands into his shirt uncomfortably, unsettled by all the new information.

“This… is a lot of information to process, I’ll be honest,” Ghostbur admits. 

“Tell me about it,” Eret sighs. “Is that everything we need to know? That you’re an admin, have an evil admin twin, and he’s super strong?”

“There’s… more to talk about… but it can wait… until you’ve adjusted to this current information,” Dream decides, nodding to himself.

Techno squints suspiciously at him. “You sure about that?” 

“Yes. I don’t want to… overwhelm you,” Dream says, more firm in his decision.

Techno sighs. “Alright, fine. I dunno about you guys, but I’m exhausted. Eret, are there extra rooms we can sleep in?” Eret perks up.

“Oh! Yes, we have plenty of them, especially since we’ve been expanding.” They clap their hands together. “But we should have dinner first. Then… How about we all go to sleep and reconvene in the morning for another discussion? Hopefully a good night’s rest will help us process this a little before we have to learn more.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tommy shrugs. He’s dizzy with how many confusing thoughts he has running through his mind, unable to string them together into coherent sentences. Having some alone time to think about things and rest sounds like a godsend right now. Suddenly going from having no information to nearly all of it is much more overwhelming than he anticipated. 

Everybody else gives their seal of approval, and that’s that.

\---

“I should’ve expected it to be like this,” Tommy comments when they’re all inside the dining room. Calling it a room is an understatement though- it’s like a fucking dining _ mansion _ . The entire room is easily the length of his entire home in the arctic put together, maybe even longer. In the center is a long, sleek wooden table, adorned with candles and flowers. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling. The walls are packed with smooth stone and wood, creating an almost romantic looking atmosphere. There’s a fireplace against one of the walls, decorative bushes along another. 

“Holy shit,” Phil comments, awe sparkling in his eyes. Eret chuckles goodnaturedly.

“Welcome to the dining hall!” They splay their arms out for dramatic effect. “As you can probably tell, this is one of the first areas we started renovating and expanding. Not for any particular reason, we just thought it’d be fun.”

“Uh huh. Wow, this place is massive,” Tubbo remarks distractedly, staring up at the ceiling. There’s a crisscross of engraved beams, along with an eye-boggling amount of glowstone that makes his eyes hurt to look at for longer than a few seconds.

“Yup,” Punz agrees. “While this is cool and all, let’s get some dinner. I’m starving.”

\--

Dinner here is much better than the charred pork chops eaten in the middle of the night. The dinner table here is so massive that everyone could eat spread out if they wished to, but on some unspoken agreement, everyone’s bunched together. 

Sapnap and George are possessively on either side of Dream, who looks rather indifferent, with Sam on George’s side and Punz on Sapnap’s. Eret’s with Puffy, while Tommy’s got Tubbo to his left and Ghostbur to his right. As always, Phil and Techno are huddled together. Damn favoritism.

But Tommy can ignore it, because right now, there’s a good spread of food on the table. Freshly baked bread, an array of different cuts of meats, and roasted vegetables line the table. It’s a bit chaotic getting what he wants, since everyone’s trying to grab some food at the same time, but eventually everyone has a full plate, including the ghosts. Ghostbur, an avid foodie, digs in immediately, though Dream picks through his plate, suspiciously staring at it.

“Dude, the food’s not gonna hurt you,” Sapnap points out, voice muffled as he chews.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” George chides, glaring at him. Sapnap glares back.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” He snaps, purposefully taking a large bite of food.

“Do they ever stop fighting?” Tubbo grumbles next to him, biting into a honey glazed carrot. “You’d think they’d stop with Dream back.”

“I think that only encourages them,” Tommy says, equally as tired.

“Oh, Dream, you’ve never eaten before!” Ghostbur’s eyes light up with recognition, stopping the squabble Sapnap and George have gotten into. Dream nods.

“I… remember eating, I guess, when I was alive… but it’s distant.” He says.

“It’s good!” Ghostbur exclaims, coughing awkwardly when those in their own conversations glare at him. “Different, but it’s good,” he says, more quiet. “I can taste flavors fully. Even when nothing in this world really feels, well,  _ real  _ to me… I can always sense food completely.”

“Things don’t feel real to you?” George asks, tilting his head. Dream, meanwhile, takes a tiny forkful of potato, cautiously putting it into his mouth and chewing. Ghostbur shakes his head.

“I don’t know how it is for Dream, but as a ghost, I can’t experience sensations the same way I did when I was alive. Which I guess makes sense, seeing as I’m dead and all. When I touch something, although I know I’m touching it, the sensation is muffled, as though I’m wearing a hundred layers of gloves. It’s the same thing with my hearing and eyesight, sometimes. But food? I can always taste it. Better than I did when I was alive, I think,” he comments thoughtfully, taking another bite of steak.

“Oh. That doesn’t sound good,” George replies, frowning. “What about you, Dream?”

Dream considers this as he eats some food. He doesn’t seem to be as fond of it as Ghostbur, but he’s making progress. “Me too… I guess. It’s not as… bad for me as it sounds for Ghostbur, though. I think it’s… mostly temperature… and smell, for me. I can’t feel much cold… or heat. Or taste much.” At that, he glares at his potatoes like they’ve personally killed his family, even as he continues to eat.

“Weird,” Tubbo comments. “So it’s different for each ghost? That’s cool!”

“Didn’t you just hear them?” Sapnap rolls his eyes. “It’s the opposite of cool!” Tubbo glares at him.

“I just meant the science of different ghosts is cool, not the problems, obviously!” 

“Please, can you guys shut up for just a few minutes?” Techno groans from a distance away. “Some of us are trying to eat in peace!”

“Fine,” the group agrees with varying enthusiasm, returning to clearing their plates. Tommy, for one, just wants to go the fuck to bed.

\--

Eret wasn’t lying when they said the castle has enough rooms for everyone individually. There’s more than enough-- in fact, there’s over forty bedrooms, according to Punz. Tommy has no idea why they need so many-- even if the entire server came together here, there’d still be plenty of empty rooms, but maybe it was for architectural reasons or some shit, he doesn’t know.

Tommy gets a room closest to Tubbo’s, though that’s not saying much. Not only are there plenty of rooms, they’re quite big and spacious, too, so the bedrooms are a decent space away from each other. Nevertheless, exhausted by today’s events, Tommy bids goodnight to his family and hightails it to his room. He instantly throws his bag down and crawls into the king sized bed, though he doesn’t immediately sleep. He just lies there, head resting on his pillow, as he tries to digest what happened today.

Dream’s an admin, he has an evil… twin? Of sorts on the loose, the Schlatt they knew wasn’t actually Schlatt at all, and to top it off, it sounds like it’s borderline impossible to fight Night. Dream said there was a way to defeat him, but he didn’t go into detail since the conversation got derailed. Hopefully he’ll tell them tomorrow and it’sa ctually feasible, or else they’re fucked. 

He eventually falls asleep with exhaustion clinging to his limbs, a million thoughts running through his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not me throwing shit tons of exposition after so much cryptic foreshadowing... i wanted to pace it out more, which is why i again cut up this chapter, but even so i feel like a lot happened in this chapter so hopefully it's followable haha


	6. heart to heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy confronts Dream about something that's been bothering him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is finally here!! sorry for the wait, i was... slightly uninspired to do this one lol. but like i said, im always working on it, even if updates take a while! hopefully the fact that this is nearly 10k words makes up for it lol  
> also! THANK U GUYS FOR 1K+ KUDOS YOU ARE ALL INSANE,, im so glad people enjoy this story!! its definitely grown so much bigger than i expected and im rly proud of myself since i usually give up on things pretty fast.  
> so without further ado... enjoy more lore and stuff. <3

_ When he comes to, he’s sitting in a tree. Well, not sitting, actually-- he’s crouched low, one hand resting over his leg, the older holding himself up against the sturdy trunk. Even without looking, he can tell that this tree is massive, centuries of life gone into it. _

_ “You said you wouldn’t hurt them,” he says, but the voice is all wrong again. It’s angry this time, sharp and tight-laced, like he’s a second away from blowing up. _

_ “Oh, my dear, you know I never promised anything like that,” A voice sing-songs next to him. When Tommy glances over, he sees the same person as last time. They’re (No, they’re a he, but how does he know that?) sitting on the branch, looking as relaxed as one could be. He’s got an infuriatingly cheerful grin on his face, and this time, Tommy can see more of the details when he meets his eyes. _

_ Red. Red and white. Those are the first thoughts that cross Tommy’s mind. The person next to him has bright, crimson eyes, like two rubies carved from stone. He’s got long, white eyelashes, only accentuating the hue, like blood draining into snow, purity mixing into two. Perhaps the strangest part is that he has freckles, but they’re unlike normal ones-- these ones are like flecks of gold paper had been painstakingly stamped onto his face with careful attention to detail in each and every one. _

_ In another sense, this person is one of the most beautiful people he’s ever laid eyes upon, like he’s been blessed with the beauty of the gods and chiseled from marble into the most exquisite statue, but even Tommy knows that there’s something sinister in those cherry red eyes. It’s why he’s angry at him, isn’t it? _

_ The man grins knowingly at him, revealing unnaturally sharp teeth for a split second. “My darling Dream, what did you think would happen?” There it is with being called Dream again-- what the fuck? _

_ Tommy bites the inside of his cheek, sighing as he turns away. “I don’t-- I don’t know. I thought that maybe you changed.” The man next to him laughs. _

_ “You can’t change what’s been blessed to you by the gods,” he muses, sounding much too calm. Dream--no, wait, Tommy-- huffs, rubbing at his cheeks. His mask (when has he ever worn a mask?) hangs off his shoulder. There’s no point in hiding himself from this person. For better or for worse, they know each other from the inside out, cut from the same cloth, two sides of the same coin. _

_ “Look at him,” the man continues after a pause. He gestures a hand out to where, in the distance, there’s a person digging a path into the ground. They’re tall and lithe, with a bandana around their neck (why does it seem so familiar--), and they pause for a second, wiping the sweat off their brow. For just a moment, they lift their face in their general direction, and Tommy’s jaw nearly drops. _

_ That-- that’s  _ **_him._ ** _ That’s Tommy. He’d recognize his own face from anywhere. Not only that, but it looks like Tommy from when he had been exiled, too. There’s bandages all over his body, eyes and hair duller than they are now. His hair has grown out a little, and even from here, he can tell that there’s a spaced out look in his eyes. Tommy but not Tommy continues his work, blissfully unaware of the two people spying on him. _

_ Tommy doesn’t fight to keep the scowl off his face this time. “What about him? Haven’t you hurt him enough?” He growls. Protectiveness flares up in him, but it gets snuffed by the man’s next words. _

_ “I haven’t done a thing. It’s all been you, Dream,” he comments. “You’re the reason he’s all alone, both emotionally and physically.” Disgust rolls in his body like waves as he clenches a fist, then forcing it to unclench. Forces himself to take a deep breath. He can’t afford to act rashly, as much as he would like to. _

_ “You say that as if you aren’t having the time of your life,” he mutters darkly. _

_ “You know me too well,” the man replies easily. “But that’s the sacrifice you were willing to make. Surely, even in the back of your mind, you must have realized what I would want, no?” He questions, tilting his head. “I’ve never kept my interests a secret, after all.” _

_ He doesn’t answer for a minute because, as much as Tommy doesn’t want to admit it, he’s right. He should’ve known better, should’ve known the risk would outweigh the reward. But he didn’t, and now here they are. _

_ The worst part is that he’s not the only one paying the price. Everyone here, once brought on by the temptations of a server they could finally be safe on, has turned into the opposite. Fuck, Tubbo and Tommy are only  _ **_sixteen!_ ** _ They’re children! The things he’s done to them (but isn’t he Tommy?) would be considered crimes against humanity. Sure, he can say that he’s been hurting them to keep them safe in the long run, but is he really? At what point do the scales tip and he does more harm than good? _

_ Whatever the case, it’s too late now. To back out at this point would mean certain death for everyone involved. _

_ “What more do you want?” He sighs, the fight drained from him. He can’t, not again. If he tried, he’d lose, and then put those he loves in danger. He’s not letting that ever happen.  _

_ “I want what I always have,” the man replies, long fingers gently trailing down Tommy’s neck as he forces away a shiver. The fingers suddenly tighten, threatening. “Give me a worthy performance,” he whispers, a smile laced in his voice. _

_ The world explodes into white. _

\--

Tommy wakes up to an unfamiliar bedroom. It takes a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, rolling over in bed. He frowns when he realizes the bed is much larger than usual. Softer, too. What the fuck? He raises his head, groaning as he realizes he slept weirdly on his neck.

He’s met with a room made of wood and stone, lush crimson red bed sheets  _ (like the sinister eyes--)  _ overflowing with feather-soft pillows piled near the headboard. There’s a large carpet in the center of the room, along with a few potted plants scattered around.

It takes him a second to remember where he is. Right, Eret’s castle. He’s in his temporary bedroom.  _ Fuck. _ He sits up a little more, rubbing his eyes.

What the hell was that dream? Again, it was so much more vivid than his dreams ever are. More serious, too, considering Tommy’s usually just involve surreal plots and thoughts that wouldn’t make much sense in the waking world.

Not to mention that he… saw himself? But it was himself in exile, like from the past. And that strange person next to him kept calling him  _ Dream. _

…

Hold on.

Hold the fuck on.

Tommy saw himself from the eyes of another person. The person that radiated dangerous energy called him Dream. The thoughts in the back of his mind in that dream had been from a different perspective, more serious, and afraid for everyone, in a way Tommy’s never felt before.

And that person…

With what Dream told them yesterday, about the deal they made, and how dangerous they were…

  
Was that  _ Night?  _ The beautifully sinister, ethereal being, that talked to him like they knew the ins and outs of every inch of his soul and body? The person that wants to see everyone suffer?

“What the fuck is this,” he mutters to himself, voice croaky from sleep. It doesn’t seem possible, but is he somehow living Dream’s memories as, well,  _ dreams? _ It’d make sense, in a strange way, with last night’s dream, too.

Dream said he had locked Night away in a realm only admins and gods could access, and that weird, liminal space he had been in was unlike anything Tommy had ever seen before. It also adds context for the fear running through his mind before he had accepted the proposal the person offered, and then today’s dream...

Shit. Against all odds, it really does seem like those aren’t just weird dreams, but actual  _ reality.  _ He lifts his head abruptly, swinging his legs out of the bed.

He needs to find Dream and talk to him about this. Whatever the hell is happening, he needs to know. If these really are memories, then Dream will recognize them, and he probably has a better idea of why this is happening than Tommy.

He stumbles out of bed, throwing on a hoodie, and then he’s out of the room. Belatedly, he realizes he doesn’t actually know where Dream’s sleeping, but it’s whatever. When has something as trivial as knowing where someone is in a massive castle ever stopped him?

As it turns out, he doesn’t need to wander very far. He spots Dream in one of the hallways after climbing a flight of stairs. He’s leaning against the windowsill, staring out intently. The hood he had insisted on keeping up all of last night is now down, once again revealing floating strands of hair and a sliver of the deep cobalt blue shade to his neck. He doesn’t make any move to acknowledge that he knows Tommy’s there when he sidles up to him, even though Tommy’s sure he does, with the weird sixth sense ghosts seem to have and all.

“Hey, Big D,” Tommy greets, turning to also face out the window. It’s still dark outside, but from the tiniest sliver of golden light he can spot, he can tell it’s just starting to break dawn. The world looks quiet and peaceful outside, so very unlike Tommy’s own mind right now. He spots a couple of cows grazing in the distance, a light frost from early morning cold blanketing the grass.

“Hello, Tommy,” Dream eventually responds, after a long moment of silence. His voice is scratchy, still not having recovered from all of yesterday’s talking.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks Dream, tilting his head. He knows ghosts don’t require sleep the same way they do, but he recently learned that Ghostbur actually does sleep occasionally to pass the time, so he assumed Dream would be the same.

“Don’t like to,” the ghost responds. “What about… you?” He turns towards Tommy now, and something about the moonlight glowing on his skin makes him look sadder than usual, but also more vulnerable, in a way the old Dream he knew never was.

“Does Night have white hair?” Tommy abruptly asks. He has no idea how to go about this conversation-- how the fuck do you bring up that you might be dreaming of a dead person’s memories? Dream balks, surprise and then puzzlement shifting in his expression.

“...Yes. Why?” He asks, uncertainty radiating off of him. Tommy closes his eyes for a second and tries to steady himself.

_ Fuck. _

That person in his dreams really was Night, huh? So that means he’s dreaming from Dream’s perspective. Is this gonna happen every time he sleeps now? Is he suddenly a prophet, or does this have to do with Dream being dead? Even so, why is  _ Tommy _ the one to have them? He and Dream have little in common. Hell, if Sapnap or George had these dreams, or even Ghostbur, it’d make more sense than  _ him. _

Anyways. Back to the point. He can’t keep Dream waiting forever, especially with how suspicious he now is, even though Tommy would like nothing more than to lie down and maybe freak out for a minute or two. If only Ranboo were here-- he’s an expert at panicking. 

“I think I’ve seen him,” he settles on answering. Dream freezes, clearly not expecting that as an answer. His seeable eye widens, fingers clenching dangerously tight on the window railing. 

“How?” He demands, tone low and dangerous. Protective, even. It’s both similar and different enough to alive Dream’s voice whenever Tommy fucked up that it sends a shiver down his spine, despite consciously knowing that he isn’t going to hurt him. Probably.

“In my dreams.” At this, the ghost relaxes much more visibly, though there’s still anxiety radiating off of him.

“In… your dreams?” He asks slowly. Tommy groans, leaning back against the window.

“Yeah. In my dreams ‘n shit. Not for long, just tonight and last night. It’s like I’m getting these weird snippets of…” he trails off, trying to find the right words, but comes up blank.

“If they’re dreams…” Dream pauses. “How do you know… what he looks like… without having… ever seen him in person?”

“Well, that’s the thing.” He turns his head to make eye contact. “I think I’m dreaming your memories.”

It takes a second for the ghost to process this, expression completely vacant for a long minute, before he re-animates again.

“What?” He asks, surprise clear as day in his voice.

“I said, I think I’m dreaming your memories. Like… I dunno,” he groans, wiping his face. “Like, I think they’re connected to the times you were with Night in the past.” 

“How so?” Dream crosses his arms. “I don’t… understand how you could… have my memories.”

“I don’t either,” Tommy agrees. “In my first dream, I was in this weird, like, void but also not void place with a cliff. There was a person there, who I assume was Night, asking me if I was going to accept his deal. I was hesitant, but I agreed. The dream ended once we shook hands.”

He can’t say that he expects Dream to just _ crash to the floor. _ He jumps, startled, and then wonders if he somehow fucking killed him _ again  _ with this news, since it seems pretty on brand for anything to do with him to go terribly wrong.

  
“Dream?!” He whisper-shouts, panicked, but not trying to be loud enough to wake anyone else. Dream brings up a placating hand.

“I’m… okay,” he says, shifting so that he’s less of a heap on the floor and more so sitting. “I… that is… a memory. Of mine. It was… when I decided to… make the server and accept Night’s help.” He stares down intently at his gloved hands, flexing his fingers.

“Sorry. I… wasn’t expecting that you actually… had my memories. It’s a bit shocking.”

Now more certain that Dream isn’t going to have a mental breakdown or disappear or some shit like Ghostbur does whenever he gets too close to a bad memory, Tommy calms down a little. 

He sighs, adrenaline replaced with exhaustion. “Trust me, it’s just as weird to experience them.” Dream nods understandingly.

“You said you had… two dreams from my point of view?” He asks, sounding hesitant.

“Yup,” he replies. “It’s what woke me up at the asscrack of dawn.” Dream smiles just the tiniest bit at that, barely a quirk of the lips, but it’s still enough for Tommy to do a double take. 

Is he… getting better?

Well, maybe getting better is a weird way of putting it. But maybe sharing this information with Dream is making him feel more comfortable with Tommy or something. Considering the only expressions he’s seen Dream have so far have been apathy and sadness, it’d be nice to know if he is capable of feeling happiness, too. 

“...What was the dream?” He asks, softly, a hint of fear hidden underneath.

“I was sittin’ in a tree with that Night bitch. We--or you guys, I guess, were talking about Night hurting everyone, I dunno. I sort of figured these were more than just weird dreams when I saw myself, back in exile, in the distance when Night pointed it out. He went on some self-righteous monologue then, or something like that. Dude’s a real prick.” He rolls his eyes. Even just remembering Night puts a bad taste in his mouth, and it must be the same for Dream, considering all of the times he had the urge to just stab him.

Dream snorts. “One way to put it.”

“So I take it that that actually happened, then?” He asks. Dream nods.

“Yeah. It was just… after exile. Night came to me… and said he wanted to…” He pauses, looking genuinely uncomfortable. “He wanted to see you… break. And I-- I didn’t… I didn’t want to.” And, oh fuck, here comes the tears again. Dream doesn’t sniffle or sound like he’s crying, but the tears flow down his face at an alarming rate.He wipes them, but to no avail; they continue flowing freely like a dam’s been broken. Hell, maybe one has.

“Hey, man, it’s okay, the past is the past,” he tries to placate. He doesn’t know how the fuck it’s come to this-- Tommy trying, and failing, to comfort the ghost of a man that hurt him, but here they are. He sinks down so that he’s also on the floor. 

Fuck, what would Phil do? Phil’s always been more of a tactile guy, so maybe, like, a hug would work? Whenever he or one of his brothers was sad, they’d always go in for a hug, sheltered and comforted by Phil’s large wings, protecting them from the harsh world outside. He hesitates for just a second, but upon seeing Dream’s broken expression, he throws all caution to the wind and loops his arms around the other man.

To his surprise, Dream isn’t nearly as freezing as he was a couple of days ago. He’s still cold, even when bundled in layers upon layers of clothes, but it’s much more tolerable now.

“I’m okay,” the ghost says, even though he’s clearly not. He tries to pull away from the hug, but Tommy tightens his grip the slightest, and he gives in, sighing.

“What happened after?” Tommy asks, after a beat of silence. He’s never been good with words.

“I think you already know,” he says with a guilty gaze.

It takes a second for him to understand what he’s getting at.

\--

_ “Please,” he sobs. “Just end this already.” _

_ “Oh, Tommy,” Dream laughs maniacally, head thrown back. “I won’t kill you. You’re too much fun.” The words make him sick to his stomach. _

_ This is going to be his life forever, he realizes. Dream will keep toying with him, breaking him before putting back the pieces, again and again. He’ll never see his family again. All he has is Dream.  _

_ (Is he all Dream has, too?) _

_ Hysterically, he wishes Dream would just tire of him and kill him already, and put him out of his misery. _

_ But even Tommy knows that Dream would never be so merciful. _

_ \-- _

Tommy blinks rapidly, shaking his head to rid himself of memories buried deep within him. Now is  _ not _ the time for trauma processing, thank you very much. He can do that later. Or never. Yeah, never sounds pretty good. Just blissfully unaware of any troubles he had in life, blatantly ignoring a bad memory when it pops up. He’d be like Ghostbur. How fun.

“Oh,” Is all he breathes out, taking a shaky breath. It’s strange, looking back on those memories with new context. In his mind, Dream was pure evil, someone so unstable that they just wanted to see as much destruction as possible. But with Dream’s point of view… It seems like he didn’t want to do any of it. He was trying to protect them however he could. 

Maybe… Maybe the Dream that Tommy knew at first, when he had first joined, the Dream that laughed at shitty jokes and kept peace between everyone, is still in there. Maybe he never left. It’s Night that made him go batshit insane and tear everyone apart, right?

“Tommy,” Dream starts. “I-- I’m so sorry. For… everything. I never should’ve let things… get so far. You, Tubbo, Ranboo, you were… all so young.” He covers his face as if he hopes he can hide from the world.

“It’s…” He trails off, trying to find the right words.  _ It’s okay  _ wouldn’t really be the truth, would it? The things Dream did really fucked him up, and even if he knows the reason why now, that doesn’t erase all of the trauma inflicted onto his psyche.

Still, though, it’s primarily Night’s fault for all of this. Had Dream not done what he wanted, he would’ve just killed them all, and will probably try to still do just that if they don’t stop him.

“I understand.” Is what he settles on replying with. Because it’s true. He’s seen from a firsthand point of view what sort of person Night is, how that poison gets under your skin and you don’t notice before it’s too late. He had the same thoughts Dream did-- desperately trying to protect them, but unable to, stuck in a limbo of hurting them or being hurt.

Dream lurches forwards suddenly, grasping at Tommy’s hoodie as he stares intently up at him.

“I won’t let it happen again,” he promises with the most conviction he’s had yet. “Tommy… I won’t… let him hurt you. Any of you. Not ever… again.” Like the first time he met Dream as a ghost, his dull eye suddenly lights up into a glowing shade of the grass underneath a tree’s shadow.

“D-Dream?!” Tommy squeaks. He doesn’t doubt the words, they’re the most serious he’s seen him yet, but what the  _ fuck  _ is with the eye thing?

Just as suddenly as he had grabbed him, Dream lets go. He blinks, the green fading once again into dead, deceptively blank eyes.

“Sorry,” Dream says. 

“What the fuck is with your eye?!” Tommy half-screeches. He’s not letting this go a second time!

“I don’t know,” the ghost half-shrugs. “I think it… might be uncontained magic… possibly.” He sounds unsure about that explanation.

What.

  
“Uncontained magic?” Tommy questions, tilting his head. “The hell does that mean?”

“Well… you know how I’m an admin now.” Tommy nods. “Admins don’t… usually die.” That’s because, of course, only other admins and gods can kill them. Which, again, puts them in a rather precarious situation with Night. 

“What about it?” He prods, when the other stops for a second.

“I think maybe… there’s too much of my… admin powers… so to speak, in this… vessel.” He gestures down at himself. “It can’t… contain as much as it could when I was alive. So it has to… release the powers when they get… intense in whatever ways it… can, like my eye glowing.”

Well, that explanation makes sense, though it’s weird as shit. But at this point, everything’s fucking weird. Dream’s a dead admin, there’s an evil admin world destroyer on the loose, so on and so forth. This is actually pretty tame compared to the rest of the problems they’re dealing with, thinking about it.

“What about the passing out shit?” He asks, thinking back to how immediately after his eye did the glowy thing the first time, he knocked out like a switch was flipped.

“I think that’s… also related. When everything… becomes too much, it shuts down, so to speak… like a safety mechanism of sorts.”

Tommy raises a brow. “Like a circuit breaker?” Dream nods.

“Exactly. I don’t… know if that’s how it works for sure, but that seems most likely,” he answers.

Huh. So admins are too strong for their ghost forms. Possibly, at least. But that means that ghosts aren’t as strong as living bodies, right?

“So ghosts are weaker?” He asks, genuinely curious. He’s not as much of a nerd as Tubbo, or even Techno or Ghostbur, but it’s not every day you get to ask these kinds of questions. They can’t with Ghostbur, since he either doesn’t know the answer or freaks out, so it’s actually kind of cool that he can talk with Dream about this stuff.

“I don’t think… it’s any noticeable difference in normal people,” Dream says. “But as… an admin… I notice that I feel…” he pauses, flexing his hands. “Weaker. Like I can’t… utilize my power the same way. I can’t… handle it anymore, as a ghost.”

“Only admins would be weaker as ghosts?” Tommy frowns, confused.

“I’m still… stronger than… any of you, I think,” Dream mentions. “But yes… I think I’m weaker than… when I was alive.”

“Wow, Dream, you sure know how to be humble, huh?” He snorts, half-joking. It’s kind of funny that even in death, Dream stays as arrogant as ever.

The ghost thins his lips, looking genuinely confused. “I’m just telling the truth,” he says.

Tommy raises an eyebrow. “If you’re so strong, couldn’t you just, like, kill Night telepathically or something? Like how he killed you?”

“He didn’t kill me telepathically,” Dream responds with a dead stare, like he can’t believe Tommy would say something so unbelievably stupid.

“Then what? He teleported?”

“Something like that,” Dream agrees. Tommy frowns, crossing his arms. However he was killed, it’s clear he doesn’t want to go into specifics just yet.

“So your plan on how to defeat him… you have to kill him, right?” He asks, changing the direction of the conversation ever so slightly. It’s a valid question anyways, he thinks, with Dream saying he’s weaker than he used to be and that only admins can kill other admins.

Dream hesitates, staring up at the ceiling. “I know… how to stop him,” he replies cryptically, as he always does. “You guys… can’t kill him… but you can weaken him. I can’t… face him alone. But I can deal the final blow.”

“You sure you’re up for it?” Tommy asks. “Like, no offense, but you freak out whenever you have to meet someone new and hide, so fighting your alter ego or whatever the fuck he is to the death seems a little much.”

“I don’t have a choice,” he replies, eyes going darker. “I’m not letting him… hurt anyone. Not ever again.” His voice is stern, showing no room for any objection, not that Tommy would have any. Dream’s the only one that could kill Night, even if he is a ghost.

“That’s admirable, I guess,” Tommy agrees. He shifts so that he’s leaning back against the wall, not really hugging Dream anymore, but close to him. Dream seems to appreciate the contact.

Dream is cold, but he doesn’t mind, not when his memories keep shifting back to the searing heat of Night. Not that Night was hot in a literal sense, but something about him makes Tommy feel like that he’s Icarus and Night is the sun. Fly too close, and your wings will catch fire.

They sit in silence for a moment as Tommy’s mind wanders. “Oh, you know what I’ve been wondering? Why does Night look like… you know, when you look like…” he gestures at Dream, who looks unimpressed. He is, of course, asking why Night looks like he’s straight from an anime, while Dream always dressed like he just rolled out of bed and put on whatever clothes he had laying on the floor.

“I think… I’m an outlier,” he says. “Night has always been… fantastical. One for theatrics. He commands attention… and relishes in it.”

“Isn’t that also you?” Tommy snorts.

Dream’s lips twitch just the slightest. “Not quite. When I was alive, I was also arrogant and confident, yes. But… I think Night wanted attention  _ because _ he was an admin. Whereas I wanted people to be amazed by things… I did. Stuff I said, created. Things that… I did in spite of being an admin. I never wanted my power to be all that I am.”

He hums, considering this. It’s a fair enough sentiment to have. “But wouldn’t being an admin give you an advantage anyways? Isn’t that why you were so good at pvp and shit?” That’s excluding having special abilities such as, you know, basically never dying. Then again, Dream  _ did _ die, so maybe it’s not as cool as it seems.

“No,” Dream disagrees. “I never used my admin powers unless I… had to.” He sighs, leaning back against the wall like Tommy, legs splayed out. “It’s like how Techno and Punz are also… good at it. It’s mostly… strength and skill. I never tapped into my admin powers. I… would’ve beat Techno otherwise.” There’s a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Uh huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Tommy retorts sarcastically.

“It’s true,” Dream refutes, and it takes him a moment to realize that Dream’s  _ joking. _ Not that he hasn’t done so before, but he’s mostly been really serious.

Another question pops into his mind. “If you and Night were created together, why were you made to hate each other? Isn’t that counterproductive or some shit, to create an evil admin?”

It’s a long moment before Dream replies. “We don’t,” he replies, pausing. “Well, we do. It’s… complicated. When we were first made… we balanced each other out. Night was… the backbone of us. Kept us safe, kept us strong. I kept us kind, he kept us alive.” He stares up at the ceiling.

“But things changed, eventually. We were always together, but I’ve always been adventurous, even as a child. I would… go off on my own, sometimes, meeting new people. It was never for… very long, but Night never liked it when I left him for too long.”

Strangely, this almost reminds Tommy of him and Techno. As the eldest sibling, Techno was fiercely independent. Still is. He’d run off for days sometimes, leaving the rest of them alone, and over time it built up some resentment. 

He stays quiet as Dream continues.

“When I met Sapnap and the others… I left him for longer periods of time. I tried to keep… those two aspects of my life separate. On one side, I was an admin. On another, I was just a kid with friends. But in doing so... “ He sighs shakily, curling up on himself.

“I failed him. I’ll never… forgive myself for that. Without me there to… help keep him steady and kind… he became ruthless. And by the time I noticed… it was too late. Even after all these years, he’s still as coldhearted as back then. I’m not sure if… he can ever change back to the Night I originally knew. I think that Night is… long gone.”

“Oh,” is all Tommy can reply, dumbfounded. Not the explanation he imagined by a long shot.

(He doesn’t think about how he easily could’ve become the next Night, had some things in his life been different. Had Phil been a little more distant, Techno a little more reserved, Wilbur a little more angry, Tubbo a little less kind.)

Next to him, Dream lowers his head, and even he isn’t enough of an idiot to continue the conversation. Clearly, he accidentally dredged up some emotions Dream doesn’t want to deal with.

They sit in awkward silence for a moment. 

“Are you… sure you’re not an admin or something?” Dream asks, voice so quiet he can barely hear it.

Tommy snorts. “Definitely not.” The closest he has is Phil, who isn’t an admin, but he was blessed by a God. Something about how they were so impressed at how he could survive, that they blessed him with the wings he now has, so that he could fly anywhere he wanted. While an incredible honor, it doesn’t suddenly make someone an admin.

Presumably, Dream’s asking that because of the whole memory thing, but honestly, Tommy’s just as confused as he is. They’re not linked-- not in a biological sense, at least. He’s not an admin. He’s just a random teenager. He and Tubbo always joked that he was the main character of this server… maybe that has some merit? Would Dream know? He opens his mouth to ask.

Then Dream suddenly drops onto Tommy’s shoulder.

  
“D-Dream?!” He squeaks. Dream doesn’t respond, and when he waves a hand in front of him, he realizes that he passed out. He groans.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

\---

Puffy finds them an indeterminable amount of time later, sunrise now sending slivers of pinks and purples through the windows. 

“Everything okay there, guys?” She asks with a confused smile, faltering when she sees them. 

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees. “Dream just passed out again.” Upon her slightly panicked look, he continues hastily.

“I mean, like, it’s a thing he sometimes does because his admin magic gets to be too much so it shuts his body down, or something? I dunno, but he’ll be fine.” She blinks confusedly, but nods. 

“Oh. That’s weird, but honestly, not the weirdest that’s happened recently,” she laughs. “It’s gotta be uncomfortable just sitting on the floor, no?” She frowns slightly, crossing her arms as she looks out the window.

How long have you been out here?” She continues.

Tommy shrugs. “Dunno. I woke up early cuz of a dream, then ran into, well, Dream shortly after,” he explains. Not a lie, though not the total truth, either.

“Hmm…” Puffy looks to be deep in thought, thumbing at her chin for a moment, before her eyes light up.

“Oh! I know!” She claps her hands together. “Why don’t you help me make breakfast, if you’re up already? It’ll be quite a lot to make by myself.”

Tommy blinks. He’s never really talked with Puffy, since she only started interacting with L’Manburgians after he had been exiled. She seems nice enough, though. “Um, sure, I guess. But what about him?” He asks, gesturing to the dead weight resting on his shoulder.

“I’ve got this, don’t worry.” In a swift, fluid moment, almost too fast for him to catch, Puffy leans down and hoists Dream into a bridal carry, straightening back up.

“What the shit?” He asks, dumbfounded. Dream’s still conked out without a care in the world, while Puffy looks as cheerful as ever, as if she isn’t half the height of Dream himself and just picked him up without breaking a sweat.

“Come on, everyone else will probably be up soon. We have no time to waste!” She announces, already making her way down the hallway. Tommy scrambles up to chase after her.

\---

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is as massive as the rest of the castle, furnaces as tall as Tommy himself, plenty of counter space to go around. There’s also, for some strange reason, a couple of couches situated in the kitchen, though they’re a little ways away from anything. Puffy dumps Dream onto one of them, who barely even stirs, before moving on.

“So, what’re we making?” Tommy asks, eyes wide as he stares at the sheer size of everything.

“Pancakes!” Puffy replies cheerfully. Tommy’s never had pancakes before, actually. He’s gotten used to pretty much only eating meat and bread, so the idea of something new is pretty exciting. He nods and follows along as Puffy gets out the supplies and explains what to do, and soon enough, they’re both working on making the mix.

“How are you doing, Tommy?” Puffy asks, after a minute of silence. Tommy pauses, side eyeing her, though she looks genuine.

“Fine, I guess. Well, shit’s been weird. I dunno. Why?”

Puffy shrugs. “Look, I know we’ve never talked, but I was there for Tubbo’s presidency. The things you two had to go through at such a young age… it can’t be healthy. I know it might seem normal to you guys, but trust me, it’s not. Or it shouldn’t be, at least.”

Well, that was… not what Tommy had expected at all. He falters for a second, before continuing adding ingredients, even as he thinks of a response.

Puffy’s right-- it is normal to them. Even when they had first joined the server, Wilbur had enlisted Tommy and Tubbo to fight in his wars. When Schlatt got elected, Tommy was forced into exile, while Tubbo ran a double-cross between the two. And of course, there was the whole public execution, then the murder suicide from one of his brothers, another exile, and presidency…

Yeah. Thinking on it, it is a suspicious amount of shit to go through considering they’re not even legally adults yet. Even Ranboo got roped into it towards the end, and he’s barely any older than them. 

“It is what it is,” he settles on saying. “Can’t change the past and all that shit.”

The sheep hybrid sighs. “That’s true. I guess what I’m getting at is that it’s okay to be a kid, you know? None of you should have to shoulder the weight of the world on your own. Like, for example, all the stuff that’s going down with Dream.” She gestures towards the sleeping ghost.

“I know you and Tubbo will probably stick through until the end, but look after yourselves, alright?” She finishes, casting him a kind, if a bit strained, smile.

He blinks, piecing together what she said, before nodding. A strange sort of warmth blooms in his chest. How long has it been since he’s been told it’s okay to be a kid? It’s always that he’s too childish, or too selfish, or too this and too that. 

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” he tells her, honestly.

Puffy smiles, leaning over to pat his head a couple of times. Normally Tommy would’ve flipped his shit, insisting that he’s a big man that don’t need nobody, but, well, what can he say? It’s nice. It’s nice to be the teenager he is, and act like there isn’t a possibility of their world ending. 

\---

Dream wakes up a little while into Puffy and Tommy making pancakes.

“Wh..?” Dream groans, groggily rubbing at his eye as he sits up.

“Hey, Dream,” Tommy greets, mixing ingredients in a bowl as Puffy adds more stuff to the furnace. They’re currently on their second batch of pancakes. “You did the whole passing out thing again.”

“Oh,” he says, blinking away sleep. “Where are…?”

“The kitchen!” Puffy says cheerfully. “We’re just cooking breakfast before everyone wakes up, then we can talk more about your plan to defeat Night and everything.”

“Okay…” the ghost agrees, standing up. He pads over to where Tommy is, hovering close by.

“Can I help you?” He asks with a raised brow, when Dream doesn’t leave his side for a while. Not that his presence is necessarily bad-- after their conversation, Tommy honestly doesn’t have it in him to have hatred. Dream was a victim of circumstance, as were the rest of them.

Dream shakes his head. “No. Just… safe,” he murmurs. Tommy nods, though he doesn’t really get it. Well, he kind of does, he supposes. He’s afraid of anything hurting them again.

The whole safety thing has Dream acting like a guard dog, if guard dogs were also particularly scared of new things and quiet. He doesn’t ask any more about it, which Dream seems grateful for.

“Mornin, Dream,” Puffy greets, when he gets tired of Tommy and wanders over to her. “Have a nice nap?”

“Ah.... Sorry about that,” he apologizes. “I didn’t mean to.” Puffy just chuckles, waving him away.

“It’s fine! I wasn’t the one being slept on, anyways. Now just sit back and watch the masters cook!” Dream nods, playing with his fingers. Tommy isn’t the greatest cook, and honestly, he isn’t sure why he agreed to help out in the first place, but he's in too deep to back out now.

By the end of it, he thinks he’d be pretty happy if he never had to open a bag of flour again for as long as he lives.

\--

Breakfast is a rather chaotic ordeal, trying to get such a large group of people up and in the dining room at the same time, but they manage. Tubbo is, of course, the hardest to wake up. Somehow, they do eventually manage to get everyone awake and in the dining room at the same time.

Everyone eats their fill, including a moment where Ghostbur and Tubbo get into a food fight and Phil starts yelling at them, and then plates are cleaned and put away as everyone expectantly waits for Dream to start talking.

“So, what’s your secret plan to defeat Night?” Techno asks, linking his fingers together as he rests his chin on them. They’ve stayed in the dining room on unspoken agreement, since it means everyone has a place to sit. Dream’s towards the center of it all, once again sat in between George and Sapnap.

The ghost looks a little nervous with everyone’s attention trained on him. He rubs his arms together. 

He fiddles with the strings attached to his hood, which is once again pulled back up. Maybe it makes him feel safer, or something. “Well… Like I said yesterday, I think… Night is recuperating from the loss… of killing me. He’s still strong, don’t underestimate him, but this is probably… the best chance to strike.” 

“So where is he, exactly?” Tommy asks, raising his brows. Maybe the nether? He figures that if Night resides in the overworld, he surely would’ve ran into him at some point, right? Unless he lived super far out, but then Dream said he couldn’t teleport, so how would he get to places? 

Dream sighs. “That’s the problem… he’s hiding in the End.”

“The End?” Punz repeats, incredulous.

“You mean the one dimension we can’t go to on this server,” Phil sighs tiredly, groaning. “Figures.”

“How the fuck… why the End?” Tommy ponders to himself. It’s a fair question, he thinks. Sure, Night’s an admin, but he has needs like anyone else. The End is a cold void devoid of any normal life, and he’s not sure if there’s even any edible food there, either. Not exactly a place he’d call homely.

“He likes the dark, the eternal nothingness,” Dream says. “It feels most natural for him, I think.”

“How the fuck is he not dead, though?” Sapnap asks, crossing his arms. “Wouldn’t the Ender Dragon have beaten his ass?”

“No,” Dream replies, rubbing at his chin. “He killed it when he first went there.”

Not for the first time, complete and utter silence encompasses the room.

“He… killed it?” Phil asks, completely dumbfounded. He’s not the only one shocked at this news. The ender dragon is easily considered the most dangerous creature on any server, usually taking a shit-load of preparation with armor, food, potions, and totems to make sure you can stay alive. It’s especially true, since once you enter the end, you can’t come back until you kill it.

Well, you can always die, but considering most people live on hardcore servers, it’s not really ideal.

So for someone, even an admin, to do so on their own, is terrifying in its own right.

“The more I hear about Night, the more he sounds undefeatable,” Sam admits. “Not to be a downer, but do we really have a chance against someone that can do all that?”

“We have to try,” Tommy refutes. What other choice do they have, anyways? They can’t leave the server, since moving servers is a pretty big deal and takes a lot out of someone, so moving servers is always a pretty big deal. Plus, the dead can’t move between servers, so they’d have to leave Ghostbur and Dream behind, which he absolutely refuses to do.

He’s already lost his brother once. He’s not doing so again. Hell, even with Dream, he can’t let him go in good conscience. 

“Yeah, guess so,” Sam agrees, biting his lip. “So if he’s in the End, and managed to kill the Ender Dragon all by himself, what are we supposed to do?” Everyone considers this, thinking to themselves.

Tommy’s never been one for planning. He’s more of a “do stupid shit, face the consequences later” type of person, so it’s unsurprising that he can’t think of any plan. He’s also never been to the End, he’s only heard stories from his older brothers and father.

He and Tubbo were always too young to visit when they lived on Phil's server. So if Phil, who, quite frankly, made the End on his server his bitch, is this worried, it can’t be good. 

George taps his chin. “Good news is, if he killed the Ender Dragon, we won’t have to worry about it,” he says. “We’ll just have to be concerned about Night.”

Phil shakes his head. “If he killed the dragon, it’s very much possible he got the egg. He seems like a smart and dangerous guy. I wouldn’t put it past him to spawn a dragon under his control when we get there.”

“You’re kidding,” Techno groans. 

“Will we be able to go against that?” Punz asks, tugging at his hair. “That.. I mean, that’s a lot of work, if we have to prepare to both fight the Ender Dragon and Night. Plus, how are we gonna kill Night if he’s an admin?”

“I’ll do it,” Dream says, jaw taut in determination. “You guys just need to… weaken him enough… for me to do the final blow.”

“I guess that could work?” Puffy considers, tapping her chin. “But we still need to consider how we’ll get there, and how we’ll get the supplies needed.”

“Night must have a way in and out, right?” Tubbo says. “If he’s able to just go between realms as he pleases. We can just use whatever he uses.”

Dream shakes his head. “He has his own ways. We’d have to go through the normal route. Through an… end portal.”

“Great,” Tommy groans. While he’s never been to the End, he knows quite a bit about it, with his father being hugely interested in its history and everything. End portals are only in strongholds, which are incredibly rare buildings that lay deep within the planet evidence of previous civilizations long gone. Looking for one is like trying to find a needle in a haystack, if the haystack was the size of the sun. Phil had only found a stronghold years after searching for one in their old world, and it was by complete accident.

“So we’ve got to find a stronghold and get enough supplies to both fight an Ender Dragon and Night,” Techno muses. “How long do you think we have before Night comes and tries to bring the fight to us?”

“Not sure,” Dream murmurs. “Less than… a month, maybe, but… I have no idea. This has never happened before… so I don’t know… how long it’ll take for him to recover.”

“Guess we’ll have to make it work, then,” Techno nods to himself. “A month is a tight deadline, but we don’t have a choice.”

“We just need stuff for the End Portal, right?” Sapnap asks. “We don’t even know if Night will summon a dragon, so we shouldn’t waste time getting extra supplies for that.”

Phil shakes his head. “No, it’s better to be over prepared than underprepared,” he counters. “Once we’re in The End, we can’t leave until we either die or win. I’d much rather we have too many things than not enough.”

Sapnap mulls over this, before sighing. “Yeah, guess you’re right. What should we do now, then? Hunt down endermen or whatever?”

“We need to tell the others,” Eret says, standing up. 

“What? That’ll just waste more time!” Techno argues. “We’re already on a tight time constraint, we can’t afford extra distractions.”

Eret scowls. “Listen to yourself. We’re plotting out what might very well be the end of all of our lives, and you think everyone else on this server doesn’t deserve to know about it? Hell, they don’t even know Dream’s dead yet!”

“We haven’t seen Bad in a while…” Sapnap mutters to himself offhandedly.

“But Techno’s right,” George counters, looking troubled. “This is life or death.” 

“Which is why everyone else should know!” Sapnap refutes. 

Ghostbur and Punz also enter the conversation, and it’s not long before Tommy can’t hear anything over the roaring noise of people arguing over each other, either against or in favor of warning the rest of the server of their possible demise.

“All of you, shut up!” Phil shouts suddenly, slamming his hands on the table as he lurches upwards. Everybody startles out of their growing arguments, pausing to stare at him.

“Eret’s right. We don’t know what’s going to happen to this world. They deserve to know if their days are numbered,” he says. Everyone’s silent, unable to argue. He continues. “However, it’s also true that we don’t have time to go visit every single individual together. We should text them. Eret, you have your communicator, right?”

“Yes,” they nod. “But mine hasn’t been working for a little while. What about you guys?”

Sam pulls out his communicator, typing for a second before frowning in confusion. “Weird. I’m not getting any signal, either. It was working alright just a few days ago.” Techno grabs his, but gets the same results.

“So our communicators are just all… broken now?” Tubbo asks, tilting his head. “Did Night do this or something?” He directs the question towards Dream, who’s been silently sitting.

“I don’t know,” he replies, shyly dipping his head.

“Shit.” Phil groans. 

“It was… me who made the communicators, right?” Dream asks.

“Yeah, it was,” Sapnap confirms. “You created them early on in the server because you wanted everyone to be able to contact each other, no matter how far away.”

“Then… it might be because… my ghost form can’t handle as much as it could… when I was alive,” Dream says.

“What?” Tubbo asks quizzically. “How does that work?”

Dream sends Tommy a desperate look, to which he sighs. “Since admins can only be killed by Gods and other admins, they usually don’t die. So when they become ghosts or some shit, they can’t tolerate all of their powers and they become weaker.” 

He thinks, anyways, since he only knows what Dream cryptically told him., and even then, Dream himself seemed a little confused about it. “It’s why Dream’s eyes sometimes glow or he passes out, ‘cuz his body doesn’t know what to do with the energy so it freaks out.”

“Woah. That’s so interesting,” Tubbo breathes out, eyes wide. “Wait, Tommy, how do you know this?”

Honestly, Tommy doesn’t really feel like talking about his weird memory dreams right now with everyone, so he shrugs. “Ran into Dream this morning and we talked about shit.”

Luckily, Tubbo doesn’t question any more than that, simply nodding to himself.

“So our communicators aren't’ working because you died?” Techno asks.

“Possibly,” Dream says. “I can’t… know for sure.”

“Nothing we can do about it, then,” Eret sighs. “But what now? I still stand by what I said-- everyone  _ needs  _ to know about this. Even if we can’t just text them.”

Puffy, who’s been silent for most of the conversation, speaks up. “We should split up and visit people. We’d cover more ground that way, if we have to go see them in person. Plus, we’ll need all the help we can get to grab supplies. The more hands the merrier.”

Techno frowns, staring down at the table. “Even so, it’ll take some time to gather everyone here…”

“Puffy’s right,” Phil says. “We have to prepare for the worst, and we’ll be able to do way more with everyone on the server working together, than just us. We should do what she suggested.”

“Split up and find everyone?” George asks, to which Phil nods. 

“Fine,” Techno sighs, relenting. “Where is everyone located, then?”

“Well, I know Bad, Ant, and Skeppy live together where the Badlands used to be,” Sapnap muses, rubbing his chin. “So they’re not super far from here.”

“Callahan and Alyssa live somewhat close to them, too,” George mentions.

“Purpled and Ponk live fairly close to me,” Sam offers. “So I know where they are.”

“I think Boomerville’s still a thing,” Punz chimes in. Boomerville, of course, contains the self-proclaimed “boomers” of the server. In this case, those are Hbomb, Lazar, and Vikkstar.

Oh, Vikk. How Tommy yearns to see him once more. 

“Oh! And Big Q and Karl live together!” Tubbo exclaims, bouncing in his seat. 

“Let’s see… I think Niki, Ranboo, Fundy, and Jack are sprawled around outside of L’manburg,” Eret says.

“Is that everyone accounted for?” Techno asks.

Tommy considers this. It feels like they’re missing someone. Someone that maybe, quite possibly, he kidnapped and tortured in the past…

“Oh! Connor!” Tommy gasps. Techno rolls his eyes.

“He’s probably still squatting in your old house or somethin’, I wouldn’t worry about him.” Which, while rude, isn’t wrong. Connor’s a bit of a strange fellow, if he’s being honest, so he doesn’t mind not having to hunt him down to warn him of their impending doom.

“We’re doing this, then?” Punz asks with a raised brow. “Splitting off into groups to tell everyone what’s going on and leading them back here?”

“Looks like it,” Techno shrugs, with everyone else nodding their agreement.

Eret sits back down, settling their hands on the table. “Who’s going to see who?” They ask. “If I’m thinking correctly, whoever visits those near L’manburg can also visit Purpled and Ponk. Same with Bad’s group with Callahan and Alyssa.”

“Oh! Give me a second,” Ghostbur says cheerfully, before disappearing out of the room. Only a literal few seconds later, he reappears, this time with a big piece of paper in his hands. He settles it down on the table, scribbling furiously away, before leaning back with a triumphant look.

Everyone, including Tommy, leans in to see what he wrote.

Group One: Bad, Skeppy, Ant, Callahan, Alyssa

Group Two: Ranboo, Niki, Fundy (my son!!!), Jack Manifold + Purpled & Pink, Connor(?)

Group Three: Quackity, Karl

“I feel like group three has an advantage here,” George comments.

“Hmm, you’re right,” Ghostbur muses, before going back in to write some more. When he leans up, Group Three has changed just a smidge.

Group Three: Quackity, Karl, Boomerville

“There!” He says cheerfully. “I’m going with Group Two, before anybody says anything else.” Nobody bats an eye at that. Fundy probably won’t be too happy about it, but hey, not their problem.

“Oh! Sam! We should go with Group Two, too!” Tubbo says excitedly. Sam meets his enthusiasm with a bright smile in return. 

“Sounds good to me.”

Tommy mulls over the groups. Dream will probably go with the first, and there’s already some people for the second, so…

“I’ll go with the third,” he announces.

“I want… to see… Bad,” Dream whispers. Unsurprising, though what is slightly surprising is how the two men on either side of Dream instantly raise their hackles.

“We’re going too, then,” Sapnap declares.

“Uh… okay, that’s fine with me, I guess,” Eret shrugs, looking a little confused. Dream tilts his head, glancing at his friends.

“You guys… don’t have to go with me… if you don’t want to,” he reassures them, but it only makes Sapnap frown and George cross his arms.

“We’re not leaving your side,” Sapnap scowls.

“Ever,” George adds with a certain tone of finality in the air. Clearly, this is bringing up some deep-rooted issues they have, which is only slightly awkward.

Dream blinks, but relents. “Okay,” he agrees.

Phil rubs his chin as he looks over the paper. “I’ll go with Group One.”

“What?” Sapnap asks. “Why?”

“It’ll probably be best to have someone that’s been with Dream almost the whole time with you. If I’m being honest, I don’t trust you guys to not get super emotional when talking to the others again,” he says, lifting his chin, as if ready to fight them if they disagree.

George and Sapnap share a suspicious look, but nod. “Alright,” George agrees.

“Is that everyone going, then?” Eret asks, looking over the paper. “That leaves Tommy alone.”

“Techno, you go with Tommy,” Phil says, turning towards him. Tommy and Techno’s eyes widen.

“What?!” The two of them shout in unison.

“Why do I have to go with him?” Techno grumbles.

“I don’t want to go with you either, bitch!” Tommy bites back angrily, sticking his tongue out at him. 

“I don’t trust Tommy to go alone. You know how to keep him in check,” Phil says calmly. “That is, of course, unless you have an objection?” Underneath his gentle gaze, there’s iron-clad steeliness in it, enough for even someone like Techno to deflate, casting his gaze away.

“Fine, I’ll go. Might be a bit awkward, though.”

“Good.” Phil smiles, any semblance of anger gone, replaced with gentle kindness.

“Any other volunteers?” Eret asks. Puffy twists her hands together.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing Niki again,” she admits. “But it’s okay if there’s already too many people going,” she says with a timid smile, so very unlike how she was when it was just the two of them making breakfast.

“Oh! You should totally go with us,” Tubbo agrees, grinning widely at her. 

“You sure you don’t mind?” She asks.

“The more the merrier, like you said!” Ghostbur adds. Puffy relaxes, nodding at them, smile turning genuine.

“So that’s everyone going,” Eret says, when nobody else objects or pipes up. “Punz and I will stay here at the castle and try to get some things prepared. I doubt we’ll be able to do much before you guys get back, but anything’s better than nothing, right?” They half-joke, chuckling goodnaturedly.

“Definitely,” Dream agrees. “Thank you… all of you. This won’t be easy,” he warns again, playing with his hood. “But I think with… all of us, together, we can do it.”

He can’t say he expected Dream to give an empowering speech about the power of friendship and all that, but it seems to boost everyone’s spirits, momentarily forgetting about what’s looming over the horizon.

“Hell yeah, brother!” Sapnap cheers, looping an arm around Dream’s shoulders in a half-hug. “Together forever!”

“While this is very cute to watch, we should be going as soon as possible,” Phil says, standing up. “Will the three of you be ready to go in a few minutes? I just need to grab my things.”

George sits up straighter, nodding grimly. “Of course.”

Sam turns towards his group. “Echoing the same sentiment Phil has-- are you guys ready?”

“Born ready,” Tubbo replies, the other two chiming in with their agreement. Techno and Tommy lock eyes.

“Ready to go, Theseus?” Techno drones, raising a brow. Tommy wishes he could dive across the table and get into a fistfight with him, but even Tommy isn’t enough of an idiot to think he’d win.

“Fine,” he sniffs. Everyone starts to get moving after that, readying up for their recruitment journey.

Tommy just hopes that things will be easy this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why yes i did write it so that i have to write every. single. dreamsmp. member. (aside from ones that joined after whre my story takes place,,, lol sorry guys) if u can excuse me im gonna go suffer and cry


	7. long time no see - 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone heads off to meet with the others on the server and warn them of their impending doom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT GUYS, IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT!!! it was harder than i expected to write differing povs, and tbh, this stuff is mostly a prelude to the more interesitng parts of the story lol.  
> i think this took me like... 3 weeks... oops?? i hope u guys enjoy it regardless!! i worked hard on it :) it got rly long so i cut it in half... again. now i have to write the second groups hhhh 

“Are we nearly there yet?” Sapnap asks for probably the fifth time today. Phil would possibly find it endearing, reminding him of what it was like raising a bunch of kids from infancy, but alas, any semblance of cuteness is long lost, considering Sapnap is a fully grown adult.

George groans. “Why do you keep asking  _ me  _ this?! You know where they live too, idiot!” Dream, for his part, is mostly silent, and Phil’s beyond thankful that he’s sharing a horse with him.

He’s going to be honest-- when he had volunteered to join the Dream Team on their journey to visit Bad, he didn’t think it was going to be quite this bad. He thought that with Dream there, at the very least, everyone would be civil, but his hopes were for naught.

The pettiness and rivalry between Sapnap and George knows no bounds, and Dream being there does nothing to placate it. It could be because when Dream was alive, he’d step in to calm them down, but as a ghost, he mostly stays out of it, shyly hiding himself behind Phil whenever one of them brings Dream into the conversation.

So, in a strange sense, this journeying reminds him of when Techno and Wilbur were teens. The two of them fought literally every day, and by the end of it, Phil thought he was going to go insane and maybe kill them all, if he didn’t kill himself first. But eventually, they grew up, and learned how to be at least somewhat civil with each other.

Sadly, it appears that George and Sapnap have not learned that yet.

Briefly, he wishes that he hadn’t sent Techno with Tommy, and instead switched them around-- but, wait, no, Techno definitely would’ve had his patience run out and stabbed them all, so maybe it’s for the best that he didn’t go with them.

Plus, having to see Karl and Quackity, who are, suffice to say, some of the most chaotic people he’s ever met, or even worse, catboy maid Hbomb… you know what? George and Sapnap don’t seem that bad anymore.

“Do they ever shut up?” Dream whispers into Phil’s neck, too quiet for anyone else to hear. He chuckles.

“Apparently not,” he grins, somewhat relieved that he isn’t the only one suffering.

“Are we there yet?” Sapnap asks again. George looks like he’s a few seconds away from clobbering his friend over the head. If he did, Phil would definitely conveniently look away as that happened, but that’s besides the point.

  
_ “You just asked that,” _ George seethes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think the two of them genuinely hated each other, but apparently that’s just what their dynamic is like when Dream doesn’t interfere.

“I know,” Sapnap grins cheekily. “But it’s fun annoying you.”

“You’re annoying the rest of us, too,” Phil deadpans. Sapnap at least has the decency to look the tiniest bit sheepish at that as his face flushes red, glancing away.

“Hehe. Oops.”

It’s another painful couple of hours of listening to the two of them bicker before they finally spot Bad’s house in the distance. Of course, the house doesn’t only belong to Bad, but it’s a stark contrast from that megamansion Skeppy built in the past.

This house is more like a cottage, cozy in every sense of the word. There’s a huge garden blooming out front, handmade wicker chairs and stepping stones accenting the porch area. Puffs of smoke rise from the chimney, so at least this means they’re home.

Dream perks up when he notices the house, as does George, probably relieved that he’s saved from more of Sapnap’s bitching. They hop off their horses nearby, then head up the dirt path to the house.

“Excited to see them, Dream?” Phil asks, partly in jest. Dream’s practically hiding behind him, but considering he’s taller than everyone else here, it’s a tad useless. 

Dream makes some sort of muffled noise that Phil isn’t sure how to decipher, so he assumes it’s a yes. The group heads up the path, Phil’s eyes raking over all of the scenery. Sue him; he’s never been here before, so it’s interesting to see what everyone else has been getting up to.

The garden is mostly vegetables and flowers-- sunflowers, roses, and poppies burst up towards the sun. There’s a long hanging tomato plant, and what he thinks is a melon patch, as well. The walls of the house are made of wood and brick, with a baby blue thatched roof. It’s quaint. He might take some inspiration for back home, actually.

The group makes it to the porch. Phil gets ready to knock, but in a show of pure bravery, Dream sidesteps past him, past George and Sapnap, and plants himself firmly in the front of the group.

“Dream?” George asks.

“Tommy was right,” Dream mutters to himself. “I have to… become… braver.” He has no idea what Tommy told him, but he supposes it has merit. Dream takes a deep breath, entire body taut and tense, before lifting a hand up to knock at the oak door.

It doesn’t take long for them to hear some commotion from inside, footsteps growing closer.

_ “If it’s Quackity, tell him I’m not letting him step foot into this house again!”  _ Someone, who he thinks is Skeppy, shouts from inside.

_ “Oh shush, you muffinhead! That was one time!”  _ A voice closer to them retorts, which is clearly Bad. A second later, the door swings wide open.

“Hello! How can I help.... you…?” Bad’s smiling face falters as he registers the sight before him.

He stares like he can’t comprehend what’s in front of him, and Phil can’t blame him. He was the same when he woke up to new voices and found the ghost of a man that hurt his family sitting on his couch.

“I-- um--?” Bad tries to speak, but his words come out choppy and confused, stuttering over himself.

“Hi, Bad…” Dream says, bringing up a hand to wave shyly at him. This does nothing to appease the demon hybrid, instead short circuiting his brain even more.

Sapnap sighs, lightly shoving Dream backwards a little. “Hey, Bad. Been a little while, I know. Mind if we come in? There’s a lot to talk about.”

“Uhhh…” Bad doesn’t reply. 

“Bad? What’s taking so long?” The other voice they heard speaks up again, and a second later, Skeppy appears in the doorway.

“What the fuck,” he says eloquently. 

Bad snaps out of his daze. “Language!” He chides, glaring at him, before glancing back at the group. “I--um, yes, you guys can come in, sorry about that.” He chuckles awkwardly, shoving Skeppy aside to make room for everyone to walk in.

And that they do; Sapnap doesn’t hesitate to grab Dream’s hand and drag him in, George following closely behind, so of course Phil has to follow as well.

The cottage is small for three people, but he can’t deny that it’s very homely. In just a few steps, there’s two rooms branching off from the main hallway, one of which is a living room, the other a kitchen. They head into the living room, which reminds him of an old grandma’s place, with all the mismatched quilts and plants hanging around.

Skeppy and Bad follow them in, both looking rather uncomfortable. Belatedly, Phil realizes that most people don’t just barge into other peoples’ homes, but he’s done so much travelling lately that he doesn’t have it in himself to give a shit. Sue him; there’s an evil admin trying to destroy their world. There’s more pressing issues than being polite.

“Mind telling me what the fuck is going on?” Skeppy asks plainly, never one to mince words. Even past that weird mask he wears with the stupid little tongue sticking out face, Phil can tell that he’s rocking a deadpan stare.

“Skeppy! Don’t be rude!” Bad protests, awkwardly smiling at them. “Sorry about him, you know how Skeppy can be…”

George nods slowly. “Uh huh. Um, is Ant here? There’s something we have to tell you all.”

“He’s probably napping,” Skeppy comments. “Cats are lazy. I think they spend like half of their life sleeping on average, or something.”

“Then can you get him?” Phil prods. Skeppy sighs, but nods, before heading off up the stairs.

“So, how are you all doing?” Bad asks brightly, though he deflates when he spots Dream again. “I, uh, haven’t seen you guys in a little while.”

Sapnap and George share a Look(™) that reminds Phil of the stare Wilbur and Techno would share before doing something stupid. 

“It’s been a little wild,” George admits. “But we’re intact. How have you guys been?”

“Pretty good, I think,” the hybrid smiles. “I’ve been baking more now since I have the time, and Ant’s been learning to garden with me. He eats the plants sometimes, but he’s getting better about it.”

“Cool,” Sapnap replies. The energy is tense and strange, which is unsurprising, since nobody’s explained what this broken Dream-lookalike is. Luckily for them, Ant and Skeppy appear in the living room.

Ant’s eyes widen. “Uh, hey guys. What’s with the Dream knockoff?” He asks, gesturing towards Dream.

“That is Dream,” Phil supplies helpfully. “He died. But he came back.”

“As a ghost,” Sapnap adds.

“Wait… that’s Dream?” Bad asks, shaking his head in disbelief. “There’s no way. Dream is… locked up. You guys must be mistaken.”

Skeppy sighs, moving to sit Bad down, as he casts another suspicious glance at Dream. “How the hell did he die?”

“It’s a long story,” George sighs.

“And you guys brought us a dead Dream, so you might as well tell it,” Ant counters.

“Right, that’s fair,” Phil says, collecting his thoughts. Now where to start..? “Do you guys remember getting a message from Sam a little while back?”

Ant nods. “Yeah. We tried to message him back, but nothing was going through. Why?”

“Well, the emergency he was dealing with was finding Dream as a ghost. He came and visited my family’s cabin in the arctic, which is where we met this Dream.”

“A ghost? He’s really…” Bad trails off, sounding miserable. “H-how? I thought the prison was well protected.”

Ah, christ. This is going to take a while, isn’t it?

\--

Eventually, Phil manages to explain everything, with the occasional snippet from George or Sapnap. Dream stays silent, since this is already a lot for the group to take in. Bad cries twice through the conversation, but with Skeppy to comfort him, he recovers pretty quickly.

“Christ,” Skeppy breathes out, when Phil’s done explaining. He’s pushed his mask away, revealing brown skin and chocolate brown eyes, blown wide with surprise. “Sounds like a lot happened.”

George snorts. “One way to put it.”

“So, what do you guys need us for?” Ant asks. “If we only have a month or whatever until this Night guy comes and kills us all, there’s no time to waste, right?”

“Exactly,” Phil reaffirms. “Since our communicators aren’t working anymore, we’ve had to split up and find everyone the old fashioned way. We’re meeting back up at Eret’s castle, then getting supplies and coordinating an attack.”

Bad frowns, sniffling as he wipes his eyes. “If Dream being de--dead is affecting things like our communicators, won’t it affect other things, too? S-since he made just about everything on this server…” His voice is still warbly from crying.

That… is a fair question. He’s actually never thought about that. “Possibly. I don’t know. Do you, Dream?” He asks, turning to the ghost in question.

“Um…” Dream plays with his jacket, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden attention. “M-maybe? I’ve noticed more… storm clouds lately. Me being dead might… cause some things in this world to… go haywire. But I don’t… know,” he admits. 

“Storm clouds?” Phil echoes. That’s slightly concerning, since it almost never rains on this server. Dream always hated the rain, so early on in the server’s creation, he had disabled it. Or he had before, at least, but that means it got flipped back on at some point.

Of course, even with rain disabled, you’d get occasional drizzles. Never any storms, though, and certainly not enough for more than some overcast weather.

“Is our whole world deteriorating because you died?” Skeppy muses, thumbing his chin. His brows are pulled together in worry, chewing his lip.

“But Night helped you make the world, right?” Sapnap asks, looking a little nervous. “Why would the world be crumbling if one of the creators is still alive?” 

That’s not even bringing up the fact that worlds usually don’t crumble when their owner dies. They usually just turn stagnant, unable to be modified by anyone else. The only times worlds actually end up destroyed and lost to the void are if some sort of virus gets in, or if the creator themself wishes for the world to no longer exist. Even with the bandit raids that went on for a while, the worlds they visited never disappeared, the people on them just died, thus leaving it forever unoccupied.

“If Night created half of the server, and we assume it’s an equal partnership, it could be that Night’s trying to screw things over,” Phil says, a light bulb going off in his head. George’s eyes widen.

“And he can do that even while he’s recovering! Sneaky bastard,” he growls.

“Sorry,” Dream murmurs. “Never should’ve let him out in the first place.” Phil sighs.

“Nothing we can do about it now. We just have to stop him before he ruins everything,” he says. He can’t say he’s trying to comfort Dream, considering all he’s done, but he’s not antagonistic, either. Even _ Tommy _ seems to be getting close to him, which isn’t something Phil expected, but he assumes he has his reasons.

If Dream wants Phil on his good side, he better damn well prove it. 

He sighs. He knows, on some level, that he’s being hypocritical. He never gave a damn about what Wilbur did when he got turned into a ghost, but even though they’re in the same boat, he just can’t find it in himself to give Dream the same treatment. It’s probably because Wilbur’s his son, but still… shouldn’t he  _ try? _

What’s the point of preaching kindness and compassion to his kids, when he can’t even do the same to a traumatized ghost? If he can forgive the strangely innocent version of Wilbur running around, surely he should be able to do the same with Dream.

That’s some thinking he should do later, though, since he’s still in the middle of a conversation that’s pretty important.

Dream’s face grows determined. Phil thinks it’s determined, anyways. It’s hard to tell with half of his face covered, eyes almost always blank, but his brows furrow and his mouth is set in a grim line.

“I’m going to fix everything,” he says, firmly. It’d be admirable if it didn’t set off alarm bells in Phil’s mind, echoing within the caverns of his thoughts.

What Dream said, and the way he said it, reminds him strikingly of how Wilbur was when he blew up L’manburg. Steadfast and sure, but also some quiet acceptance of knowing that he couldn’t take back what he was about to do. 

Now, he doesn’t think Dream will pull a Wilbur and destroy the world himself after all the work he's been doing to save it, but still, something about it is  _ off. _

“How?” He asks, frowning.

“By stopping Night,” Dream replies, like he’s stupid. “It’s scary, but… I think I can do this, as long as you all help.” He nods to himself, resolution growing.

“Right, mate, of course,” Phil says. He hopes Dream’s being honest. If he  _ does _ pull a Wilbur, or a self-sacrificing Tubbo, there’s going to be hell to pay. He may not forgive Dream now, or even ever, but that doesn’t mean he wants the guy to die or anything. Of course, he’s already dead… Can ghosts disappear for good? 

Ant clears his throat. “Right, so you guys need us to go with you?” He asks.

“Well, you can come with us, or you can go straight to the castle,” Sapnap replies. “We have to visit Callahan and Alyssa too before we head back.”

Bad turns towards his two friends. “Skeppy--” he starts, but is cut off by the other man just shaking his head, smiling softly.

“Don’t worry about us, Bad. You go off with them. I’m sure you’d like some time together,” he says, sending the group a knowing glance. 

“Still, it feels rude.” Bad protests, chewing his lip. Ant pops up behind Skeppy, leaning an arm on his shoulder.

“We’ll be fine! We’ll see each other again within a couple of days, anyways. Don’t be so nervous,” the cat hybrid grins. This seems to relax Bad a bit, as he nods.

“Well, if you guys don’t mind, I’d like to go with you to visit Callahan,” he says, turning towards the group.

“Of course!” George agrees, nobody else protesting. “Are you ready to leave, like now?” He asks, peering out the window, squinting. “We should be able to get to their place before the day ends.”

Bad sighs shakily, but gives them a warm smile. “Sure thing.”

Phil turns towards Skeppy and Ant. “You’ll be alright to get to the castle, yeah? You guys know where it is?”

Skeppy rolls his eyes, but doesn’t look particularly bothered. “Trust me, we know where Eret’s castle is. We’re good. Just…” He pauses, voice going lower. “Look after Bad, alright? I know you like, barely know him, but he’s been struggling ever since he lost Dream. He knew him for a really long time, and he’s not really one to lash out, so I think he’s been bottling up his emotions this whole time. So just… I dunno,” he sighs, frustrated.

“Look after him,” Ant helpfully supplies, a soft smile on his face. Phil blinks, nodding.

“Sure thing.” He can understand the request. Even though nobody in his family is as stupidly kind as Bad, they all have a rather bad habit of repressing any and all negative emotions until they blow up. What’s one more person to look after, anyways? He’s basically adopted everyone on this server, even the ones he doesn’t particularly like, such as Fundy.

Christ, Fundy… Maybe he’s always been too harsh on the kid. Er-- adult. He sometimes forgets Fundy’s a fully grown adult now. Something about being a fox born from a magical fish made him age much faster than should be possible, both physically and mentally. Wilbur only had him less than a decade ago, and yet Fundy’s already more on par with being in his twenties.

He ages normally now, though. Wilbur, before turning into Ghostbur, had mentioned to Phil that Sally had made a deal with a witch that involved her first-born, which ended up being Fundy. The curse only lasted for the first twenty years of life or so. So by all other accounts, Fundy’s simply your average adult.

Again, he can think about his fucked up relationships later. He pinches himself lightly to bring his thoughts back to the present, just in time to watch Bad unlatch from hugging Skeppy and Ant. He sighs shakily, turning around.

“I’m ready to go,” he says, determined. 

“Cool, then let’s get going!” Sapnap cheers. The group gets up, heading for the door.

“We’ll be leaving soon, just need to get some stuff ready,” Ant explains, as he and Skeppy wave them out. “Have fun!”

Bad rolls his eyes. “Thanks, muffin heads.”

_ “Rude!”  _ Skeppy’s voice turns muffled as the door closes. Phil heads down a little bit to get to the horses, but pauses when he realizes nobody is following. He turns back to see Bad go up to Dream.

“I’m so sorry,” Bad starts, head lowered. Dream tilts his head, confused.

“For what?” He asks.

“For… for everything.” His voice turns choked. “I never-- you did bad things, but I never wanted you _ dead.  _ I should’ve… I should’ve…” words fail him as he stutters over himself. To Phil’s surprise, Dream just stares at him, before suddenly enveloping the other man in a hug. Even though he’s hunched in and sobbing, Bad still stands so much taller than Dream. His hug looks like it’d be crushing to anyone normal, but Dream doesn’t react at all, just gently swaying.

Bad tenses, but within a few seconds, he loses all control as he starts crying once again, clinging to Dream like a lifeline.

  
“I’m sorry,” he sobs.

“Don’t be,” Dream whispers. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Dream lifts his face enough to nod at George and Sapnap, who’ve been awkwardly standing outside the hug. Upon his prompting, the two of them also tackle Bad in a hug.

Phil just smiles softly, crossing his arms as he waits. They needed this, that much is clear. Like how Sapnap and George needed a hug the first time they saw Dream like this, it’s the same with Bad. He doesn’t know them well, but he remembers being told that Bad’s been with them for a very long time, always protective and fretting over them. So for one of them to be dead must be distressing.

“We missed you, man,” Sapnap sobs dramatically. 

“Oh, you muffin heads,” Bad laughs, voice nasally. “I missed you all too.”

“We couldn’t be the Muffinteers without you,” George adds. 

“...Or without Dream,” Sapnap mutters. George lifts a hand to bonk him on the head.

“Shush,” he chides. “We’re all together again.”

“I’m glad,” the demon hybrid sighs. “Even if…” He trails off.

“I’m still here,” Dream protests. “I know I’m… not the person… you remember, not quite. But… I’ll always be your friend.” That’s enough to get Sapnap and George crying, too, so Phil respectfully turns away and heads down the path to get the horses ready.

* * *

“Hey, look! We’re nearly there!” Ghostbur’s shout brings Tubbo out of his thoughts. Over the past couple days of traveling, he’s mostly been daydreaming, imagining all the outcomes of the future.

He doesn’t think he’s too much of a cynical person, but at the same time, he’s not as optimistic as people like Tommy, either. He’s not sure how confronting Night will turn out, but all he can hope for is that there’s minimal casualties.

Anyways, back to the point-- Ghostbur’s alerted the group to something, bringing Sam and Puffy out of their quiet conversation.

“That house in the distance?” Puffy asks, squinting. Said house is so far away that Tubbo can just barely see it, so he honestly isn’t sure how Ghostbur does.

“Whose is it?” He asks, curious.

“Niki’s!” Ghostbur says cheerfully. “I often visit. Even though she doesn’t run a bakery anymore, she still bakes a lot! Plus, Fundy and Ranboo also live there!” Ah, makes sense. He’s forgotten that Ghostbur is the person that probably travels the most out of all of them, wandering where he pleases. He’s a whimsical spirit, untethered to anything.

“We’re still, like, at least ten minutes away from there, Ghostbur,” Puffy notes. “How can you even see that far?”

Ghostbur doesn’t answer, instead speeding up Friend to go at a faster pace. “I have so much to tell Fundy!” He cheers. 

“I’m sure he has lots to tell you, too,” Sam replies pleasantly. Tubbo stays silent. The last time Ghostbur saw Fundy, it had been before Dream even got locked up, and it didn’t end well. Tubbo had ran into Fundy afterwards, who was curled into a ball and crying, because his father was never really a  _ dad  _ to him. As Wilbur, he was neglectful, and as Ghostbur, he remembered nothing.

So, yeah, it might be a bit awkward. But it’s not like they could keep Ghostbur from joining them-- what he wants, he gets. Who knows, maybe they’ll learn to be a happy family or something.

Tubbo peers over Sam’s shoulder, as they’re sharing a horse. The house Ghostbur saw stands alone, but the environment itself isn’t lonely. Even though, regrettably, he hasn’t visited anyone since Dream was put away, he knows that Jack lives close by, as well. Parallel to the house, there’s a sort of building that looks like a barn for animals.

He’s a little surprised that Fundy and Ranboo actually live with Niki. He imagined that they lived as neighbors or something, considering their rivalry between their ice cream shop and bakery, but they must’ve gotten over it.

It’s not much longer before they’re close enough to the house to actually make out the details. Ghostbur leads the pack, excitement radiating off of him in waves. There’s smoke rising out of the chimney, and while he might be hallucinating, Tubbo thinks he can smell the familiar, lovely scent of fresh pies.

He misses Niki, he realizes belatedly. Well, of course he does, but the scent reminds him of better days, when they were fresh faces on the server. Niki was a constant in Tubbo’s life for a long time. Always bright and kind, incredibly smart, and very talented. 

She’d bandage him up after a particularly rough day, he’d help bake cherry pies with her on quiet mornings, she’d take him to the gardens and teach him all about the local flora and what attracts bees. Sometimes, she’d have bad days, too, days where she’d sit crying on the floor because of the weight on her shoulders, days where she’d punch the walls and rattle the foundations and it would have to be Tubbo to fix her up. 

Thinking about it, she's barely older than him and Tommy. Jack, too. He and Tommy were about thirteen when they first joined the server, so they must have been around fifteen. 

_ (Too young, his mind reminds him. So, so young, to be fighting in wars and ending lives.) _

Looking back, it’s weird to think about. He never felt too young to engage in battle back then, but some years later… It wasn’t right. He glances at Ghostbur, seeing no reminiscence of the man that suited them up and marched child soldiers to their graves.

Where Wilbur had been a blazing fire of anger and insanity towards the end, Ghostbur is cool and calm, avoidant of problems where Wilbur raged into them head first. As though to prove his point, Ghostbur’s head turns towards him, and when he spots Tubbo staring, he just grins widely at him.

“I forget you guys haven’t visited here,” he comments. “Ranboo’s gonna love seeing you again, Tubbo!”

“Really?” Tubbo asks. He doesn’t doubt it, but even so, it brings a smile to his face. Ranboo’s unfairly tall and much too anxious, but that’s okay! He can be the one to soften those edges. 

“I hope Niki’s well,” Puffy mentions offhandedly.

“I’m sure she is,” Sam says. “As well as any of us, anyways.”

Puffy sighs. “True. They might not be very happy with what news we have to give them…” Everyone deflates a little at that. Tubbo sort of forgot that this isn’t just friends checking up on each other, and instead they have to deliver the news that their world may be destroyed soon. How fun.

“Hey, look, I see someone!” Ghostbur shouts, alerting the rest of them. Sure enough, near the house, in a big area of farmland, there’s a figure hunched over, collecting what looks to be potatoes.

Tubbo would recognize those gangly limbs from anywhere.

“RANBOO!” He shrieks in excitement. The poor enderman hybrid’s head whips up startlingly fast, nearly dropping his basket of potatoes when he notices them.

“Tubbo, keep your voice down a little, will you?” Sam asks, bringing a hand up to rub his ear. Tubbo grins sheepishly.

“Sorry, Sam.”

“It’s fine,” the creeper hybrid placates. “Looks like Ranboo’s a bit preoccupied, huh?” Tubbo peeks his head out again to spot Ghostbur making a beeline for Ranboo. The enderman startles, making a distressed noise, and teleports into another field before Ghostbur and Friend can ram into him.

Said field is quite close to where they are on their horses. Close enough, in fact, that Tubbo haphazardly dismounts his horse, even as Sam nearly trips the horse over to keep it from stepping on him.

“Tubbo!” He shouts, but it’s a lost cause. Tubbo rushes to Ranboo, who doesn’t notice him until the last second, and pounces into a hug.

“T-Tubbo?!” Ranboo asks, body frozen stiff. Not in a literal sense like Dream, but rather in fear, at least until his body doesn’t register him as a threat and relaxes.

“Ranboo!” Tubbo greets excitedly. Behind him, he can hear Sam dismount his horse.

  
“Sorry about him, Ranboo, guess he was really excited,” the man says apologetically. Ranboo, for his part, just looks mostly confused as a hand comes up to tentatively pat Tubbo’s head.

“It’s, uh, fine, I just didn’t expect to see you all here. What’s up?” 

“It’s a long story.” It’s Puffy that says that, following suit. “Hey, Ranboo.”

“Hi!” Ranboo’s smile turns a bit more genuine, even when Ghostbur bounds over, looking like a much too excitable dog.

“Ranboo, hello!” Ghostbur greets. “Are Fundy and Niki inside?”

“Yeah,” Ranboo nods. Ghostbur doesn’t wait for any more of a response, turning tail and heading off towards the house.

Sam sighs. “Let’s follow him inside, then we’ll tell you guys what we’re here for.” His tone makes it clear that it just friends visiting for fun.

“Okay,” Ranboo agrees, eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. They head off towards the house.

\--

The house isn’t much of a walk away from the farm fields, thankfully. It’s especially true since he and Puffy have to work to keep up the pace with Sam and Ranboo, both of which are unfairly tall. He swears Ranboo is, like, at least seventy percent leg. Must be the ender part of him.

“Fundy, Niki, we have guests!” Ranboo calls out when he opens the front door. Though Ghostbur had been ahead of them, he got distracted by the admittedly beautiful flowers blooming in the front, so he now trails behind them with wide eyes.

“Guests?” Niki’s soft voice replies as she bounds down the stairs, smoothing down an apron. “You should’ve told me beforehand, I would’ve--oh!” She notices them when she looks up, since the stairs are directly in front of the foyer.

“Hi, guys!” She smiles warmly at the group. “What’re you doing here? You should’ve texted us first!”

“It’s… a long story,” Sam sighs. 

“Well, what’s the short story?” Niki asks. The three of them share a Look, minus Ghostbur, who’s taken to wandering the house already.

“Dream’s a ghost,” Puffy replies awkwardly. “But there’s a lot more to it.”

“Dream’s a  _ what?! _ ” A new voice shrieks.

Said new voice belongs to none other than Fundy. He’s standing at the top of the stairs, one paw on the railing.

“Fundy!” Ghostbur greets enthusiastically, waving. He makes a move like he wants to head up the stairs to go hug him, but Tubbo puts an arm out. They don’t have time for Ghostbur to get rejected and become all sad.

Even though he isn’t looking, he can feel Ranboo’s eyes boring holes into the back of his head, shock in the gaze. 

“W-what do you mean, Dream’s dead?” He asks.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Tubbo confirms. “Like Puffy said, there’s, uh, a lot more you guys need to know.”

Niki rubs her fingers into her forehead. “Okay. Jesus. Uh, I just have to take a pie out of the oven so it doesn’t burn, but you all can head to the living room, I guess? Or wherever you want to talk.” She turns tail and rushes into the kitchen. Fundy’s still frozen in place, eyes wide.

Ranboo breaks the awkward silence. “The living room is this way.” He gestures them through another hallway and into a big, open room. Jesus, how much space do they need? The ceiling rises high and mighty like a tree canopying her land, but even so, Ranboo looks just a few inches short of bumping into it.

Wait, no, Ranboo’s super tall, that’s right.  _ Duh, _ no wonder they need space. Plus, endermen need to be able to teleport around, because it’s enriching for them, the same way kids play hide and seek. Or something like that. It’s been awhile since Ranboo told him that, and he had more pressing matters to attend to during that time period, such as arranging a funeral for his presumably deceased friend.

“You can sit wherever you want,” Ranboo offers. He himself sits on a swinging chair that’s too high for Tubbo to get into, much to his chagrin, but he picks the second best spot, a little cushioned stool next to it.

Fundy trails into the room, looking severely out of place. HIs paws twist together, tail swishing slowly behind him, indicating that he’s either annoyed or afraid.

“Fundy, my son!” Ghostbur says happily again. Without Tubbo there to intervene, the ghost wastes no time before leaping onto Fundy in a hug. The fox hybrid nearly shrieks, tail puffing up.

“Da--Ghostbur?!” He cries out, making a choking noise.

“I’ve missed you,” Ghostbur replies dramatically. “My dearest son.” He rubs his face against Fundy’s ears, which twitch in annoyance.

“I’m your only son,” Fundy scowls, but he doesn’t push him off. Ghostbur releases from the hug, but leaves his hands lingering on his son’s shoulders.

“After this, we need to talk,” he says, crinkled eyes not matching the serious tone. Fundy blinks, surprise clear on his face, before he frowns again, glancing away.

“Whatever,” he replies, shoving Ghostbur’s hands off. Ghostbur actually doesn’t seem too upset by this, wandering to find a spot to sit. Fundy sits on a random arm chair.

Niki enters the room, this time with her apron gone. She’s wearing a puffy green blouse with flared pants, oddly befitting for someone like her. 

“The pie’s cooling now. So, what’s this about Dream being dead?” She asks. She takes a spot next to Puffy, while Sam perches on the arm of the couch.

“I hope you guys have some time to listen,” Sam half-jokes. “It’s a long story.”

Niki smiles thinly, the light not quite reaching her eyes. “We’re listening.”

\---

By the end of it, Tubbo’s zoned out. He’s already heard plenty of what’s happened, being there for a majority of it. 

While it’s interesting, it does also get kind of boring, hearing the same details repeated over and over again. Dream was killed, he’s an admin, he’s got an admin twin trying to kill them all, yada yada yada. Yawn. Give him new stuff to work with! 

Everyone else, it seems, does not have the same opinion as him. Ranboo’s got a hand over his mouth, hunched into himself, like he’s physically in pain. Niki’s got a blank stare on her face, frozen in place, even as Puffy holds her hands in her own, a worried look painted on her features.

Strangely, Fundy is the most normal looking of them all, scowling as he tries to push away Ghostbur, who’s found a spot he likes, which happens to be hanging off his son’s shoulders.

“I can’t believe my ex-fiance is an admin,” he bemoans, shoving a paw into Ghostbur’s cheek when he tries to nuzzle into him. “I never would’ve broken up with him if I knew that.”

“ _ That’s  _ what you’re concerned with?!” Ranboo yells, voice shrill. 

“I mean, the rest of it’s pretty bad too, but do you know what kind of power I could’ve had with an admin husband?” Fundy retorts, and Tubbo can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

Niki blinks out of her stupor, side-eyeing the fox. “Implying Dream would’ve done what you wanted.”

“Hey, you never know!” Fundy protests, huffing. Niki rolls her eyes.

“Okay, onto the  _ actually  _ important information. You guys need us to go to the castle?” She says.

“Yep,” Tubbo nods. “Once we’ve rounded up everyone at the castle, we’ll have to split off again to get as many supplies as we can for the final battle.” A pause. “I think.” He’s not totally sure, since he was usually zoning out during the planning conversations.

“Then shouldn’t we just go off to get things directly?” Fundy asks, still pushing Ghostbur away. “Why waste time?”

“Because our communicators are broken and we have no idea what we’ll actually need,” Sam says. “If everyone’s together, we can decide as a group who should go and do what. It’ll be easier to coordinate that way.”

Fundy frowns, but doesn’t protest more. 

Tubbo looks up at the swinging chair, where Ranboo’s still curled into himself like an armadillo. The sight almost reminds him of how Dream would hide in himself when especially nervous.

He reaches out an arm, just barely long enough for his fingertips to placatingly reach the other teen’s leg.

“Doin alright, big man?” He asks.

Ranboo lifts his head enough for Tubbo to see his eyes, green and red reflecting back at him. Since he hates eye contact, this is a big show of trust, even with all that he’s found out.

“Not really. You kind of dumped a ton of information on us, you know.”

Puffy laughs. “That’s true. Trust me, I only found out, what, a few days ago? It’s wild, but you’ll adjust,” she shrugs.

Niki groans, rubbing her face. “I need a nap,” she sighs tiredly. “I assume we need to leave as soon as possible, though.”

Tubbo nods, then pauses. “We still need to talk to Jack Manifold, Purpled, and Ponk,” he says. “But aside from them, yeah.”

Ranboo pulls a face. “Ugh, Jack.”

Puffy raises a brow. “Not a fan?”

Ranboo pauses. “He’s fine, I guess. He just-- I don’t know. He always seems to be trying to inconvenience anyone and everyone.”

“That’s Jack Manifold for you,” Niki laughs. “But we’re on a time crunch, no? I can take whoever wants to go to go see Jack, since I know where he lives. Purpled and Ponk, too, since they’re not too far from him. Then everyone else can head to the castle.”

“I’ll go,” Tubbo says immediately. Sam casts him a quizzical gaze.

“You sure?” He asks. “I don’t mind going.” Tubbo nods fervently. He’s in no rush to get back to the castle, if he’s being honest.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.” 

“Alright, then,” Sam shrugs. “Then the rest of us should head back to the castle.”

“Hold on!” Ghostbur protests. “I still need to talk to Fundy.”

“Can’t that wait until after we get back?” Sam asks, but Ghostbur shakes his head.

“No. Now,” he reaffirms, jaw set stubbornly. Fundy rolls his eyes.

“Well, if you guys don’t mind a short break, we can go and eat some pie?” Niki suggests. “Thinking about it, it would be a shame to let it go to waste…”

“Yes!” Tubbo and Puffy shout at the same time. Tubbo’s not missing out on a freshly baked treat from Niki! That’d be  _ insane. _ Her goods are beyond delicious, and he hasn’t had them in a long time.

“Niki’s pies are always good,” Ranboo says, though nobody needs convincing. Sam snorts.

“Yeah, sure, that’s fine. Maybe we do need a break before we get back to work, anyways.”

“Perfect, let’s go to the kitchen, then,” Niki says, standing up. Fundy makes a move to get up, too, but Ghostbur pushes him down.

“We need to talk, Fundy.”

“Wh-- but I want pie!” The fox protests, sounding legitimately upset at the prospect of losing pie.

“Talk first,” Ghostbur insists. Fundy scowls, opening his mouth, but closes it once again.

“I hate you,” he sniffs, turning away.

Everyone’s interrupted by a loud thump, that sounds like it came from the roof.

“Uh… what was that?” Ranboo asks, eyes wide.

Tubbo looks up, and is promptly met with glass shattering into a million pieces, raining all around them as the world’s most dangerous storm, a dark shadow hurtling towards him at an alarming speed.

Tubbo’s chest constricts painfully as the figure crashes into him, leaving them both in a heap on the floor.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Fundy screams.

_ “Tubbo!” _ Puffy and Sam yell in alarm. 

“Hnng,” Tubbo groans, blearily opening his eyes. He can feel some of the glass crunch against his body where he’s laying, which doesn’t bode well. The figure lifts themselves up from Tubbo’s body, and he’s met with red and blue glasses.

“Jack Manifold?” He asks in shock, promptly shutting his mouth when his lungs constrict painfully.

“Hello, Tubbo,” Jack Manifold says, sitting up on him. All things considered, he looks pretty calm and unruffled, even with everyone around him in disarray. 

“What the fuck, Jack?!” Niki glares daggers at him. “What the hell was that? You could’ve really hurt somebody, you know!” 

“Sorry,” Jack Manifold says, not sounding very sorry. He looks down at Tubbo again, blinking, like he forgot he was there, before smiling sheepishly. “Sorry about that, mate,” he says. He stands up, and before Tubbo can process it, Jack lifts him up as well, setting him on his feet. He brushes the glass off of Tubbo, fixing up his shirt a little, before standing back with a triumphant look on his face.

“Our living room,” Ranboo sniffs sadly, tears pooling in his eyes. They don’t fall, as he wipes them away hastily. Tubbo’s still disoriented from what the fuck just happened. His breathing is starting to become steady again, thank god.

“Why are you here?” Puffy asks. “Couldn’t you just have, like, knocked on the door or something?”

Jack looks around the room, frowning. “Tommy’s not here?” He asks.

Sam shakes his head. “No, he’s with Techno. Did you expect him?”

“Well, I was hoping to get the jump and ki-- I mean, have some fun with him again,” Jack laughs nervously. “But if he’s not here, I might as well be going, then.” He steps forward, but Tubbo leaps at him, grabbing onto his hand.

“Hold on!” He says. “There’s stuff you need to know! Everyone’s gathering at Eret’s castle. You can’t leave,” he protests. Maybe it’d be better to leave Jack, since he did just crush Tubbo, but still.

“What, you mean getting ready to battle Night in The End?” Jack says, not skipping a beat.

Tubbo falters. “What? How did you--”

“I was listening in,” Jack cuts off. “For part of it, anyways, before I got bored. I think I heard something about pie, though?” He casts a hopeful look at Niki, who doesn’t look impressed.

She sighs. “If you promise to clean up and fix our roof, fine, you can have pie with us. Otherwise, beat it.”

Jack laughs, unperturbed by her coldness, slapping her on the shoulder. “Oh, Niki. Did you even have to ask? Now let’s go have some pie!” He heads off to where the kitchen is, leaving everyone else to deal with the aftermath.

“What the hell was that?” Fundy asks, voicing Tubbo’s own thoughts.

Sam shakes his head, exasperated. “Best not to question it. Let’s just go have some pie, I guess. Hopefully Jack will clean up later.” Fundy once again tries to get up, but Ghostbur pulls him back. 

“We talk first,” he protests. Fundy whines, but sits back as everyone else leaves. 

“Sorry, big man,” Tubbo flashes an apologetic grin at him as he heads off. Fundy just glowers. 

The kitchen here is tall and homely, with flower-printed walls and big bay windows. Those were probably Niki’s doing, but there’s touches of Ranboo and Fundy in it, too. There’s a single table, small in size though incredibly tall, pushed against the normal one. Random trinkets and gadgets lay around, no doubt Fundy’s work. There’s a random grass block sitting on one of the windowsills, untouched by age.

And there is, of course, the main attraction-- pies. Beautiful, delicious pies, where even just the sight has Tubbo’s mouth watering. There are only two, but they’re quite large, golden crust latticed over juicy red fillings.

“Everyone take a seat,” Niki says, waving them off. “I’ll serve the pies.” Nobody protests, heading to their seats. Tubbo takes the one right next to Ranboo’s, even if it is significantly shorter. 

“Hi!” Tubbo greets with a smile. Ranboo blinks down at him, shyly looking away.

“Hey,” he replies. Sam climbs in next to Tubbo, whereas Puffy sits on the opposite, next to where Niki will probably sit.

“Alright,” Niki says, with both pies on the counter and a big knife in her delicate hands. “I have a cherry pie and rhubarb pie. Who wants what?”

Tubbo opts for cherry pie, while Ranboo gets rhubarb. Everyone voices what they want quickly, the pie is served, and then everyone’s eating.

Much to his delight, the pie’s still warm. The crust is buttery and flaky, cherry filling sweet with a hint of tartness. Every bite is a mouthful of flavor.

In short, the pie’s delicious. In length, it’s  _ really _ fucking delicious. He inhales the pie in record time.

“Slow down, kiddo, there’s no rush,” Puffy giggles, when she notices his empty plate. Tubbo glances at her, which is only barely halfway through, since she and Niki have been talking.

  
“Oops,” Tubbo says, grinning. 

“At least it means it’s good,” Niki shrugs, looking pleased with herself. 

“It’s super good, Niki,” Sam gushes. “I didn’t realize how much I missed your pastries.”

Niki blushes, smiling into her pie. “Thanks, Sam. Maybe after all this end of the world stuff, I’ll open a bakery again,” she says. Puffy’s eyes light up, and the three of them engage in rapid conversation. Jack Manifold is completely focused on his pie, dissecting it for god knows what reason.

Tubbo leans over to Ranboo. “Do you know where the bathroom is?” He whispers. Ranboo blinks down at him, mouth full of pie, but nods.

“Upstairs, second left door,” he replies. Tubbo nods gratefully at him and heads off to the bathroom.

When he exits the bathroom, business done, he hears a voice. No, wait _ , two _ voices. He pauses, trying to discern where they came from. One of the voices gets louder when he takes a step forward, and that’s when he realizes the other door upstairs is slightly ajar. Through the tiniest sliver that’s open, he notices something orange and fluffy.

_ Fundy. _ And if Fundy’s there, that means the other person is Ghostbur.

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, honest. It just…kind of sort of happens? Tubbo’s a curious guy! He presses against the wall, listening in.

“I don’t have any reason to be talking to you,” Fundy’s slightly muffled voice spits. There’s a cold indifference in his tone, though Tubbo knows better. He’s been there all the times that Fundy broke down, all the times he saw ripples of his dead father in Ghostbur’s demeanor, all the times that he tried so desperately to win affection from someone who could never give it.

Fundy is someone that cares too much, no matter the consequences, and is left to pick up the pieces on his own. In a sense, he’s Icarus, with anything he holds dear as the sun, burning him alive.

Ghostbur sighs. “I know. But you’re here, so you must be a little curious, no?” He doesn’t sound particularly teasing, but it’s enough to upset the fox.

Fundy growls. “Spit it out already. What do you want?”

There’s a pause as Ghostbur probably tries to collect himself. “I came here to… to apologize.”

“What?” Fundy asks, disbelieving. Tubbo is, too.

“I’m apologizing. To you. Fundy, my son. I… When Dream died, I came to realize that even though he didn’t remember some of the things he did, and had justification for his actions, the things he had done still hurt people, even after everything. So, I realized that even though I don’t remember any of the bad things I did, and couldn’t understand why people hated me, that doesn’t matter.”

I hurt you. I hurt so many people. I don’t have to remember or acknowledge it for it to be real. So, I guess what I’m getting at is that… I’m sorry. I can never take back what I did or didn’t do. But I want to be better. You don’t have to forgive me, or like me, but I promise I’ll try to be a better father and person from now on.”

There’s a stunned silence. Tubbo instinctively claps a hand over his mouth to keep from shouting in shock, but the words run wildly through his head.

He never, not in a million years, would have expected Ghostbur to do  _ this.  _

From what he’s seen, Ghostbur is whimsical and cheerful, avoidant of any issues. He’s never had an interest in being a father, really, and he always acted like Wilbur was a completely different person from him.

Yet, clearly, he’s not _ just _ that, because here he is, taking accountability for his actions and owning up to himself.

Fundy’s clearly shocked by this revelation too.

“I--” Fundy starts, then stops, voice cracking. “I don’t… You… Why now?” He questions miserably, conflicted. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Ghostbur replies, voice breaking. The grief is obvious in both of their tones.

“I hate you,” Fundy sobs brokenly. There’s a muffled sound of what Tubbo assumes is Ghostbur bringing him into a hug, and with that, the fox completely breaks down, crying into his dead father’s shoulder.

Tubbo peels himself away from the door, heading back downstairs. That, at the very least, should be a private moment for themselves.

A little while later, the two of them come downstairs. Ghostbur looks the same as ever, if a bit more somber, while Fundy’s clearly been crying. He silently eats his pie as everyone else cleans up and gets some supplies ready.

Once everything’s done and all the food’s been eaten, everyone heads outside. Tubbo grabs his bag from his horse, meeting up with Niki.

“We’ll see you guys later, then,” Niki says with a wave. Puffy nods.

“Definitely,” she agrees. 

“I’m going with you guys too,” Jack Manifold says, appearing out of thin air.

“What?” Tubbo blinks in surprise. “But the whole point is that the rest of you can head back already!”

Niki sighs, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s best to just leave it. Jack is… a force to reckon with.”

“Okay, I guess,” he agrees pensively. He doesn’t care that much if Jack comes along, it just seems strange, but whatever. As long as he doesn’t shatter glass and crush him again, he can deal with it.

“We ready to all head off, then?” Sam asks, making a mental tally of his group.

“Yessir,” Puffy agrees lazily, saluting him. Tubbo jumps forward to wrap his arms around Ranboo’s middle.

“Tubbo?” The ender hybrid asks, confused.

“I’ll see you soon, big man!” He promises, grinning up at him. Ranboo stares not quite at him, since he hates eye contact, but close enough, and smiles softly back.

  
“Alright. See you soon,” he repeats, returning the hug quickly before they part.

As Tubbo heads off with Jack Manifold on one side and Niki on the other, he thinks that maybe things aren’t as different as they used to be, when they were younger and more naive. 

After all, they’re still themselves, aren’t they?

* * *

  
  


The day is cool and mostly overcast, much to Tommy’s chagrin. He’s not a fan of the tropical heat or anything, but he also dislikes the cold. He’s had plenty of that in the arctic, thank you very much. He can’t say he’ll be too excited to return there once this is all over.

That is, if they don’t fail and die, anyways. If they do, at least he won’t have to worry about where he’ll be living after this. Optimism and all that shit.

His mind wanders as he and Techno traverse the hilly region before them. Why Quackity and Karl chose to live up in the fucking mountains like they’re goats, he doesn’t know, but _ god _ it’s a pain in the ass.

Today, like the other days, he had a dream as, well, Dream. Or last night, technically, when they camped at the base of the mountain.This time, it had been from the last time Tommy saw Dream before he died.

The final confrontation.

\----

_ He should have known something was off. The entire day felt strange, like a picture tilted ever so slightly, like waking up from a dream and realizing how it didn’t make any sense. _

_ He should have, but with his attention preoccupied on so many other problems, mainly Night, he didn’t have the mental capacity to read too much into everyone’s behaviors. _

_ He should’ve. It was a mistake on his part, foolish of him, and now here they are. _

_ The entire server, together as one, a beautiful and dangerous unity, all prepared to go against Dream. _

_ Fuck. _

_ They’re out in the open, just rolling fields of grass with a sparse forest surrounding, so one would think it’d be easy to escape. Yet, he finds himself feeling more claustrophobic than if you stuck him in a prison cell. With the rate things are going, though, that might very well end up as his fate regardless. To-- Dream, he’s Dream in this, flexes his fingers together anxiously. _

_ Nobody’s quite attacked him yet, but he knows that they’re waiting. Everyone’s fanned out around him. In the distance, he can spot Punz in a tree, with a crossbow ready and loaded, mouth set in grim determination. People like Puffy and Techno circle around him like sharks in water, looking for a chance to strike. _

_ Dream stands with an air of nonchalance, even if he’s anything but. He forces himself to keep a relaxed and confident posture, a skill he’s refined with having to always be around Night.  _

_ The main attraction, of course, are the people in front of him. There’s Tommy, looking worn down and rugged, but there’s a familiar spark of passion in his blue eyes. He hasn’t seen it in a while, not since he tortured him in exile. _

_ It’s… reassuring, and terrifying. _

_ Next to him is Tubbo, shed of his usual presidential suit and now in armor, a dark look on his face. Sam stands protectively over the two, infallible as ever. _

_ Hell, even Ghostbur’s here. He’s a little ways off, looking confused, but Niki holds him back from trying to come and talk to him. Fisted in one hand, Dream can spot the ever familiar sight of blue clutched between his monochrome fingers. _

_ Blue is a lovely shade. It’s the color of Tommy’s eyes, the expanse of the sky, the calm waters of the sea. Yet, blue is also the color of tears, of grief and sadness, of bruises blooming on skin. _

_ If someone were to ask what color represents anger, most people would say red. Dream disagrees. In this case, at least. _

_ Red anger is passionate, hot, volatile. It burns to the touch and is a raging inferno. But this anger, the kind that seeps into everyone’s being here, reminds him much more of blue. It’s resigned, full of mourning and grief for those that believed he had some good in him, or quiet acceptance from ones that didn’t. _

_ “It’s over, Dream,” Tommy speaks. The first words since Dream got roped in by Punz and Sapnap, the first words since they’ve ended up in this standoff. _

_ Dream scoffs. “Oh, it is, is it?” He asks, making sure to lay on the sarcastic tone. Anything to get the edge. If this turns into a fight, he’ll be fucked. _

_ He could, if he tried, take them all down, but the whole point of… well,  _ **_everything_ ** _ he’s done is to keep them safe. If he kills them all, there’d be no point. But that also means he’s at an incredible disadvantage, because if he can’t get away, he’ll end up in Pandora’s Box. And he, of all people, knows that it’s inescapable. _

_ Tubbo clenches a fist. The boy’s shaking, but even so, he stands tall. “You’ve hurt so many people,” he says, voice warbling. He takes a breath, steadies himself. “No more. This is the end.” _

_ Even after all these flashbacks, it’s still disconcerting to see Tommy from the view of someone else. Especially since that someone was his mortal enemy for some years. From the way Dream looks at him, he can see how ragged and sad he is, aged years beyond his youth. It’s surreal. _

_ “Uh huh,” Dream replies, lazily shifting his diamond axe in his grip. Everyone’s attention hones in on the slightest movement. Interesting. “Look, for everyone’s sake here, it’d be in your best interest to let me go. I won’t even kill you all! Promise,” he grins cheekily. Tubbo scowls, Tommy making a disgusted face. Sam just looks deeply disappointed. _

_ It hurts, of course, that the people he loves so much have this animosity towards him, but he can’t blame them, either. He’s had to act in monstrous ways to keep them from harm. Some days, he wonders how long one can wear a mask like this before it fuses into their skin forever. _

_ He doesn’t want to know, but he’s sure he’ll find out regardless. The good and the bad, the justice and the anarchy, the light and the dark. Which one is more prominent in him, now? Maybe, underneath it all, he’s a murky shade of gray, swirling and changing, forming an incomprehensible monster. _

_ George and Sapnap move from where they were more so in the back. There’s genuine grief clear as day in Sapnap’s face, never one to be able to hide his emotions, while George has a mask of indifference. Bad hides his face in his hands, Skeppy protectively hugging an arm around him, glaring daggers at Dream. _

_ God, he thinks. Please don’t do this. He can’t break, not now, and yet-- _

_ \--and yet. _

_ “Why?” George asks. His voice shows no indication of emotion, nor his eyes, with his goggles pulled protectively down. But Dream knows these two like the back of his hand. Bad, too, even if he’s not standing with them. He’s been there for every scrape and bruise, every triumph and victory, every cold night, curled together like quotation marks with the promise to keep each other warm and safe. _

_ So he knows that even though George looks passive, there’s a storm inside. An ocean of emotions that he tries so desperately to drown, even if it always comes back. _

_ Dream opens his mouth, then closes it. What can he say? He can’t tell them anything. Not that they’d believe him, anyways. Not after all he’s done. _

_ “We loved you,” Sapap says, choking on the words. A sob hitches in his throat, angrily blinking away tears. _

_ Once upon a time, Dream would have been the one to wipe away those tears. Funny how things change. _

_ “We won’t make the same mistake twice,” George declares. He protectively puts an arm in front of Sapnap, but the other man raises his head, anger clear, even with the tears. _

_ “You’re going down, Dream,” Sapnap adds. They ready their weapons -- Sapnap with an axe, George with a bow. They move into a defensive stance, with George backing away for maximum efficiency. _

_ Around them, nobody yet moves. Waiting for Dream to make the first move, perhaps? He tries to take stock of where everyone’s located, but it’s useless. They’re all fanned out, so no matter where he goes, there’d be someone waiting for him. _

_ Ranboo’s persistent, inhuman gaze bores into his soul, even when he’s not looking. It makes the back of his neck itch. _

_ Fundy, surprisingly, is the next contender up in the ring. He circles around Dream, once behind him, and stares up at him with animosity in his eyes.  _

_ “It’s over,” Fundy says coldly. Somehow, that’s nearly what makes Dream break. It doesn’t quite, only fracturing him, the tiniest cracks in his facade, but it’s close enough to be unsettling. Fundy’s eyes, once a warm brown, hold nothing but malice in them.  _

_ Dream thinks that, in another life, they might’ve actually loved each other. Maybe romantic, maybe platonic, maybe another type of love entirely. But in this world-- in this world, there’s only the shattered remains of any kind of relationship. When he and Fundy first got engaged, it had just been a fun little thing, and Dream didn’t mind making his friend happy. _

_ Night, however, cared deeply. He used the caring nature of their relationship and held it over Dream’s head, all the while laughing, not a care in the world.  _

_ Fundy’s story is a different kind of tragedy. While George and Bad and Sapnap all have each other, Fundy has nobody, and Night used that to his advantage. _

_ But he can’t turn back the clock. Fundy’s just another casualty in all the people he’s fucked over. He tears his gaze away. The fox’s eyes shine with unshed tears, paws fisting together. He takes a breath, before backing away, aiming the crossbow that was slung across his back. _

_ “Come with us peacefully, Dream, and nobody has to get hurt,” Sam says, placatingly but warningly, like he’s a feral dog. Sam gestures towards the massive, looming institution in the distance. _

_ The prison. _

_ Dream was the one that commissioned Sam to build the prison, overseeing the entire process. He knows that once he’s in, there’s no getting out. And if that happens… _

_ God knows what Night will do, with free reign. _

_ Dream snarls. “You think I’m going down without a fight?” He laughs, all bravado. Underneath his ever smiling mask, his eyes dart around, desperately searching for any kind of escape, panic rising as he finds none. _

_ Sam sighs tiredly, looking resigned, partly in grief. “We expected that. I’m sorry, Dream. But you’re not getting out of this.” As though they coordinated the attack, and hell, they probably did, everyone charges at him at once. _

_ Dream leaps into action, skills honed in after years of fighting. It’s tough, dodging fifteen simultaneous blades slicing at him, but he manages. He grits his teeth as he dips under someone’s axe. _

_ He needs a way out of this, fast. He can only dodge attacks like these for so long. Using his powers is off the table-- he’s never used them much, and if he attacks just a smidge too hard, everyone will get killed. _

_ “Why can’t you see that I’m trying to help you?!” He wants to scream, but instead his words come out as stabs and jeers. He throws insults that he knows will hurt, uses words that cut down to bone, taunting and boasting as he uses all of his energy to dodge attacks. _

_ It doesn’t do anything aside from make them angrier, of course, but he’l take any edge he can get. With his powers, he could easily put them all aside, but now-- _

_ \--now he is simply a man against an army. He twists and turns, jumps and crouches, rolls out from under the sweeping edges of swords. He halfheartedly hits back with his own axe, mindful to try and not just fucking decapitate anyone. Many of them are on their last lives, and he’ll be damned if he permanently ends them. _

_ He seethes in pain when a stray arrow from Punz manages to catch in his shoulder. Red blooms under his hoodie, but he just grins and bears it, because he can’t do much about it. _

_ “Just give up! You can’t take on all of us!” Sapnap screams. His voice is enraged and feral, though Dream can’t tell where it’s coming from, too busy holding off attacks from every side. _

_ “This is what you get for ruining everyone!” Tommy yells. A second later, a diamond sword cuts through his thigh. Dream bites his mouth hard enough to bleed to keep from yelling.  _

_ He’s not going to make it out of this, is he? _

_ Still, he must try. _

_ Even though it’s futile, he tries his hardest. He punches a few people, he declares how he never loved anyone and that they were all just pawns and catches a glimpse of Bad’s heartbroken face, he stabs Tubbo in the arm.  _

_ In the end, the finishing blow is done by Techno. Perhaps, all things considered, it’s fateful, in that way. The two of them have always been at odds. Once rivals, then enemies. Everyone’s been slowly picking him off, dwindling his energy and health, but it’s almost humiliating how Techno doesn’t even need to hurt him to knock him down. _

_ The piglin hybrid hits him in the back with the butt of his axe, and Dream crumples to the ground like a ragdoll. Everybody stops attacking, but they create a vicious circle around him. _

_ Techno crouches down, lifting Dream up by the back of his hood. He stares at him like he can see right through the mask, now cracked nearly in half, ruby eyes boring into his own. _

_ “We could’ve been great,” he whispers. He sounds… disappointed, maybe. It’s jarring. Dream opens his mouth to speak, but spits out blood instead as he coughs. _

_ Everyone surrounds him, including Sam, once again. Sam also kneels down, big red eyes looking almost pitiful. He’s holding-- wait, is that a  _ **_syringe?!_ **

_ “This’ll be over soon,” he promises. He lifts it, and it’s most certainly a syringe. Dream struggles frantically, hysterically, but Techno has a firm hold on him. He yanks his head around as best as he can, but another hand forces him still.  _

_ He can’t do anything but lay immoble as Sam injects some sort of sedative into him, and the world fades to black. _

\----

Techno slaps the back of his head. “Quit daydreaming, nerd.” Tommy blinks, momentarily disoriented, before scowling.

“You’re such a bitch,” he sniffs. Techno rolls his eyes. 

“As if you aren’t,” he retorts. Tommy gasps, offended.

“I’m the nicest person out there!”

The piglin hybrid groans. “Then I weep for humanity.”

Tommy sticks his tongue out at him, not that Techno can see it, since he speeds up Carl to start walking ahead. Tommy groans as he leads the horse Eret let him borrow along. God, who knew riding horses for days on end could make your ass so sore?

It’s only an hour or so later when Techno stops them. He puts out a hand, frowning up at the mountains.

“We have to walk from here,” he declares.

“You’re fucking kidding,” Tommy blanches. The land in front of them is rocky and unstable, impossibly high and thin. It’d be a death trap.

“You think the horses will survive that?” Techno asks pointedly. Tommy growls, but doesn’t retort, because sadly, he’s right. Even for the past few hours, they’ve been walking slower, nearly tripping a few times as hooves landed on the wrong side of rock.

“But then  _ we  _ have to walk,” he complains.

“You’re the one that wanted to visit them,” Techno says flatly.

“I thought they’d still live on party island or some shit! Not up in the mountains like some kind of monk!”

Techno just stares at him. 

Tommy scowls, but readies to unload off the horses. “Fuckin-- fine. We’ll walk. Whatever.”

Soon enough, the horses are dismounted. Techno mentions that it probably won’t take longer than a couple hours to reach the house, so they can just leave everything behind, and the two of them start their trek up.

Tommy, of course, complains the whole time. Techno, of course, complains about Tommy complaining the whole time. What a wonderful duo they are, huh?

“If I knew what a gremlin you’d grow up to be, I never would’ve let Phil take me in,” Techno sniffs, though his tone makes it easy to decipher that he doesn’t mean it.

The mention of childhood reminds Tommy of something. Wasn’t there something he saw, about kids? Or, no, it included kids… Someone blonde…

Oh! The photo!

He fishes the picture out of his pocket. It’s a little bit crumpled from sitting in there for so long, but otherwise, it’s intact. He does a once over, and sure enough, the photo’s the same as he remembers. Young Techno and Dream, just having a good ol’ time together, as if they didn’t first meet in this world.

“Hey, Techno,” he starts, jogging slightly to catch up. He waves the photo in his hand. “What’s this about?”

Techno squints suspiciously at it. “What is it?” In lieu of an answer, Tommy holds out the photo. Techno snatches it, staring intently for a moment.

“Where’d you get this?” He asks. It’s hard to decipher the tone in his voice. It’s not quite on edge, but not completely calm, either.

“Found it in the attic,” he explains. “Mind explaining what’s going on?”

Techno stares at the photo with intensity, but doesn’t slow down his walk at all. How the fuck he doesn’t trip and die, Tommy doesn’t know.

“That’s me,” Techno says, ever so helpful. Tommy groans.

“Duh, stupid! But what about _ Dream  _ being there? With _ you? _ ”

“That’s  _ Dream? _ ” Techno asks, shock in his voice. Tommy falters.

“Wait-- you didn’t know? But… you’re in the picture!”

Techno shakes his head. “I… No. I don’t…” he pauses. “This picture feels familiar, in a strange way, but I have no recollection of knowing Dream before joining this server, much less as a child.”

“What the fuck?” That wasn’t the answer Tommy expected. If even _ Techno _ doesn’t recognize the picture… maybe Dream knows? Or he did some weird fuckery? But why wouldn’t he just tell him during their big emotional talk or whatever?

Techno shakes his head with a sigh, handing the picture back. “I really don’t know what to tell ya, Tommy. I don’t remember knowing Dream back then. Maybe it’s another weird admin power of his,” he shrugs.

Tommy raises a quizzical brow. “What, to erase people’s memories? Or create fake photos?”

“I dunno. Dream’s a strange guy, wouldn’t put it past him.”

“I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” he deadpans. Techno pauses, looking back at Tommy.

“I mean it, Tommy. He’s a strange guy. Even though he’s dead, I can’t say I trust him.” His gaze darkens. “Don’t make the same mistake twice, kid.”

Tommy’s eyes widen. He’s not sure why everyone’s suddenly getting all philosophical with him or some shit, but he can’t say he’s a huge fan. He can look after himself! 

Where the hell were they when Dream was tearing him apart, anyways? When he was exiled, when he had Dream over his and Tubbo’s shoulders, whispering promises and threats into their ears, worming his way into their lives in such a manner that they were powerless to fight back.

Even if he knows firsthand the grief and complexity of Dream’s emotions and the situation overall, nobody else does, or ever did. So why? Why now, when he’s strong enough to take care of himself, do they choose to act like he needs guidance?

He stamps down the anger, though it simmers underneath. It’s useless to get mad at Techno right now. Hell, he’s sure that if he did, the other man would just punt him off the cliff, so he keeps his thoughts to himself.

They walk in silence.

\--

Eventually, after what feels like years of grueling hiking, they make it to the house.

Looking at it, Tommy finds himself even more baffled as to why they chose to live like nomads, up on top of an unstable and gravelly mountain. Both Karl and Quackity are social creatures at heart, never taking anything seriously. Well, aside from all the times Quackity tried to murder Technoblade. But otherwise, they were goofballs, through and through.

So for them to be up in the middle of fucking nowhere, not having easy access to visit anyone, is… weird. 

He mentally shrugs. Maybe they needed a change of pace. He thinks that the prison stint had everyone reevaluating their priorities.

The house itself, at least, is quite obviously Karl and Quackity’s. Though they might be in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, they’ve still kept their refined palate-- aka, this house is the ugliest thing he’s ever laid his eyes upon.

“Ugh,” Techno comments in disgust. Hell, even  _ Tommy’s _ stuff isn’t this bad. The house is adorned in wool of all shades. Magenta, neon green, piss yellow, reds, you name it, it’s there. There doesn’t appear to be any rhyme or reason to where the blocks are placed. There’s some stone, brick, and wood also haphazardly shoved around to make what you could consider to be the shape of a house.

Fenced into the side of the house is a llama in a cart, rolling endlessly around in a circle as the world’s worst roller coaster. The llama doesn’t look particularly bothered, but its gaze is so dead inside that it’d be hard to tell regardless.

The two of them head up to the house’s porch, which is made entirely of gray concrete, and Tommy raps loudly on the acacia doors. Techno crosses his arms, standing a little bit behind him.

The door is wrenched open before he’s even finished knocking. Quackity’s short frame appears in the doorway. He stares for a moment as he registers the sight before him, but then he blinks, and his eyes light up with recognition.

“Tommy!” He drawls, splaying his arms out. All things considered, Quackity looks pretty good. His hair is, as always, tucked into his beanie, and instead of the blue sports jacket he always wears, he’s now sporting a long sleeved shirt. There’s a pink scar above and below his lips, but it’s healed quite well, with having it been due to Techno ramming a pickaxe through his jaw and whatnot. His dandelion colored downy feathers are relaxed against his back.

“Big Q!!” Tommy responds, copying the gesture. The two nearly reunite in a hug, but as Quackity leans in, he then notices the other guest. He jumps back in alarm.   
  
“WHAT THE FUCK IS  _ HE  _ DOING HERE?!” He screeches, pointing an accusatory finger at Techno.

“Told you it’d be awkward,” Techno whispers to him. Tommy grins sheepishly.

Okay, so maybe he sort of forgot that not everyone on the server is as forgiving as the others. And yeah, maybe he forgot that Tubbo told him that Quackity seemed to despise Techno with every inch of his being. Maybe he did, indeed, forget that Quackity doesn’t forget, or forgive.

Can you blame him? He’s had a lot on his mind! Besides, Phil was the one that insisted Techno go with him. If anyone’s to blame, it’s him.

“You better start explaining why Technoblade is here right the fuck now,” Quackity scowls, puffing his chest out. The intimidation factor is lost since he’s so short, and also visibly afraid of Techno, but it’s a valiant effort nonetheless.

“Well, long story short, Dream’s dead. Long story long, we have to gather everyone together to go to the End and fight an evil admin that’ll kill us otherwise.” Tommy flashes him his brightest grin. “So can we come in and talk?”

Quackity stares. 

“You think I’m stupid enough to believe that?” He snorts, tilting his head. “Look, Tommy, I like you, but not enough for this. Get lost.” Before he can slam the door shut, Techno kicks out a leg, effectively stopping it.

“He’s telling the truth. Now either you let us in, or I’m going to shove this knife into your ears and make your screams sing,” Techno threatens with an easy smile. He produces a knife from god knows where, waving it theatrically.

Quackity deflates, eyes going wide. “I-- holy shit-- fine! Come in! Just… just don’t stab me!” He squeaks. Techno shoves the door open and the two walk inside.

The interior of the house is suspiciously normal, especially compared to the eyesore that is the outside. The color scheme is more on the dark side, with spruce and dark oak, but there’s some pop of color, like the bright yellow couch in the living room.

“Where’s Karl?” Tommy asks. 

Quackity’s gaze flits nervously over the two of them. “Dunno. Why?” He sounds on edge. That could be because Techno just threatened him, but it’s also strange. They’ve never hurt Karl-- hell, half the time, Karl isn’t even around, so why is he so intimidated?

“Like we said, we’re recruitin’ the entire server. That includes Karl,” Techno says. Quackity looks pensive, but nods dimly.

“...Fine. I’ll go and try to find him, but, I…” he pauses. “Just a warning-- don’t stress him out too much.”

Tommy and Techno share a look. “Why?” He asks. Quackity bites his lip.

“It’s hard to explain. He’s just been going through a lot lately. He’s kind of sick, too, so he might be a bit forgetful.” He sighs. “Just stay here.” With that, he seemingly disappears into thin air.

“What-- where the fuck did he go?” Tommy asks, glancing around. Techno shrugs.

“No idea. Honestly, I don’t really care.” He starts walking around the house. Tommy instinctively follows.

“What’re you doing?” He questions, as Techno picks up an item, squinting at it, before putting it down.

“Seein’ if they have anything good to steal,” he deadpans. The worst part is that Tommy can’t tell if he’s serious or not. Alas, Quackity returns from the void before Techno can swipe anything, with Karl in tow.

Karl looks… different, from what he remembers, but he can’t tell why exactly. He’s still got his messy brown hair, his oversized, multicolored sweater, his blocky sneakers, and a kind smile, but something seems… strange.

He blinks, shaking away the thoughts. It’s probably nothing.

“Hey, guys!” Karl greets. “I heard that some stuff is going on.”

“Yeah, a lot of shit’s gone down,” Tommy confirms. “So you guys might wanna, like, sit down or some shit, because it’s gonna be a lot to take in.”

“Okay,” Quackity agrees reluctantly. He and Karl both sit down, while Techno leans against the wall, because of course he does. Tommy, as a big and cool man, stays standing as he explains all the bullshittery that’s been going on lately.

By the end of it, Big Q’s as shell shocked as he could have expected. Karl, while he looks upset at the news, doesn’t start screaming or freaking out. He just frowns sadly, sitting in contemplative silence.

If only Quackity was the same. 

“What the hell?!” He screeches for the fifth time. He’s standing up now, pacing around the room wildly. His wings, while too small to actually fly, are flapping as if he’d try anyways. 

“The explanation’s pretty clear,” Techno comments with a raised brow. “I get it’s a lot to take in, and you don’t like me, but we don’t have time to wait around and let you process this. We still have to get to Boomerville.”

Karl nods. “Okay, yeah, I think we can do that. Not like we were doing much here, anyways,” he laughs awkwardly. Quackity gives him an incredulous stare. 

“How are you so calm about this?!” He demands, hands balled into fists. Karl sighs, standing up. He walks over to Quackity and gently places a hand on the other man’s jaw, right where the neck meets ear.

“Uh,” Tommy smartly says, because this looks like a prelude to something a bit too romantic to be comfortable in. Luckily, Karl doesn’t go in for a kiss or anything.

“We’ll be okay,” Karl says to him. “You trust me, right?” Quackity swallows, eyes wide.

“I-I do,” he admits. “But…”

“But nothing,” Karl says. “We’re all in this together. Plus, we can see Sapnap again.” He smiles, and Quackity smiles too, if a bit nervously. Karl steps back, hand falling off.

Techno makes a gagging noise, while Quackity rolls his eyes.

“Oh, hush. It’s a fiance thing, you wouldn’t get it.”

Tommy hums. “So is there a reason you guys chose to live up in the fucking mountains? Why didn’t you, like, stay with Sapnap or some shit if you’re all engaged?”

“Long story, lots of reasons,” Karl says, pausing with an awkward smile. “Not bad reasons! Just, we thought Sapnap would do better to spend some time with his oldest friend, after everything. We chose to live in the mountains because, well, why not?” He shrugs. 

Tommy frowns, but nods. Strange reasoning, but he’s seen weirder. 

“We needed some seclusion after all the bullshit we’ve been through,” Quackity tacks on, glaring not so subtly at Techno.

“By the gods, when will you learn to let go?” Techno groans.

“Let go? You want me to let go of the fact that you murdered me _ twice?! _ ” Quackity shouts, feathers puffing up. Karl sighs, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“We don’t have time for this,” he says. “You guys can fight later, when our world _ isn’t  _ in imminent danger.”

Quackity scowls, but even he can see the logic. He glares once more at Techno for good measure before turning away.

“Fine,” he sniffs. “But we’re going to the castle on our own! I refuse to go with Techno.” He crosses his arms angrily.

“You'd have to anyway, since we still have to visit Boomerville,” Techno responds tiredly. “But yes, fine.”

He stands up from where he was leaning, grabbing Tommy by the hoodie and pulling him out towards the hallway.

“Hey-- what the shit!” He yells, nearly choking on his hoodie strings.

“We’re leaving,” Techno announces. “No time to waste. You guys just get to the castle as soon as possible, alright?”

Karl gives them a double thumbs up. “As soon as we get some stuff ready, we’ll be off!” He confirms with a doofy grin. “Bye, guys! It was nice seeing you again!”

“It was nice seeing you, Tommy,” Quackity pointedly agrees, snarling at Techno. Holy shit, will these two  _ ever _ get along?

“Nice seeing you too, Big Q and Ka-- _ ack!” _ His goodbyes are cut short as Techno opens the front door and launches off, dragging Tommy behind him. 

“Bye!” Karl bids again, his form in the doorway quickly fading in the distance as Techno carries them off the mountain.

Well, then. One group down, just one more to go. This should be easy, right?


End file.
